#it is up to you to guess which ones are which | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

freyito · 1 day ago

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ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪᴍᴇʀᴀ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ...

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, argenti, mr. reca, sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, jiaoqiu, moze, mydei, phainon, anaxa (seperate) x reader

✩ in which: you bring home a chimera that looks like them.

✧ a/n: SOMEHOW IT FEELS LIKE ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE POSTED A FIC??? IDK IF THIS IS NORMALLY HOW LONG IT TAKES ME BUT AUGHHH!!!!!!! i got a job again and many more things happening irl but i am FINALLY! FINALLY!!! starting to get back into the groove of writing and drawing and even gaming teehee... sometimes all you need is a change to get out of a slump i guess.

you may also notice that a few characters are missing from this post! thats cause whenever i do one of these big ol posts, a couple of characters really tend to make it feel like it drags on for me. that leads to me really dreading writing the fic and, of course, leads to me taking a month on the fic lol. this will be one of the last posts i do with all the male characters (and female, if i ever decide to write for them in the future), before i move onto writing five characters at most. im sorry if you guys liked these posts and your favorite characters werent written for, i know these are like. my most popular pieces. it just takes so long and by the time i reach certain characters i feel like im all outta juice.

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread

✎ wc: 4.3k

⎯ Aventurine

“Well… I suppose we’ll see how this goes…”

AVENTURINE isn’t exactly against the idea of a chimera, but with all his catcakes, is it a good idea…? Both of you don’t know, and you feel a little embarrassed to admit that you didn’t think of this before bringing home the chimera. He’s not mad though, he’s quite taken by the little creature. But, with his penchant to collect catcakes, he worries about possible socialization issues.

The chimera, however, fits right in– aside from its striking eyes. Loafing and lounging with the catcakes, day in, day out. With a big ol’ smile on its cute face, happy to be with its kin… You think. Chimeras have the body of lion cubs, right? So aren’t they like… kind of related to catcakes? It’s a question you’d rather not ponder. Still, even so far from home, the chimera seems quite content. Paired with a bunch of companions who are all spoiled equally.

That being said, it seems you have chosen one of the laziest chimeras known to man. Ever since you had brought it home, it had kept Aventurine in bed even later, refusing to get up from his chest, even if the man had a meeting. It seems Aventurine has spoiled it far too much, or it has gotten so used to the comfortable life that it’s gotten quite stubborn…

⎯ Dr. Ratio

“Interesting….”

Most would not take RATIO as any type of pet person. No cats, certainly no dogs, no birds… the list goes on. Even his colleagues would not have guessed he’d take such a shine to such a… cute creature. As far as they know, cute is not a word within Ratio’s vocabulary. So, when his peers and students see a chimera toddling behind him, they can’t help but be interested.

He acts like he isn’t attached to the chimera, treating it more like a specimen than the cute little lion-butterfly-thing it is. When you first brought it to him, he was quite intrigued. A creature from a planet that not even the memokeepers can reach… It's a wonderful research opportunity, and a gift. One he cherishes, despite his logical approach to it.

It seems he has bonded with the chimera on a deeper level than you expected. It just so happens that you have picked up a chimera that not only looks like Veritas, but also one that was just as enlightened as he was. You think. You don’t understand a lick of the chimera’s little chirps, but Ratio seems to understand well enough. Then again, the math that he prattles on about with the chimera, you don’t understand either.

⎯ Boothill

“Awh, who’s this little feller?”

BOOTHILL is actually quite delighted when you bring a chimera home to him, even if your reasoning is a little… odd. Looks like him? Well, there’s only one of him and that means there’s only one look-alike; the man in the mirror. Still, despite this, he’s practically in love with the chimera. It’s been so long since he’s even had a pet– and he’s always missed the dogs and cats on the ranch– so why not indulge in your silly little shenanigans, and appreciate this little critter you’ve taken the time to pick out for him?

The two get along so well. Boothill had always wanted a pet eventually, but with his lifestyle he was afraid to ever adopt. Considering he was running around half the galaxy, he was wanted, and the closest thing to home he knew now was a ship, it was just unfair to subject any sort of animal to that life. Now that he had you and a proper home, however, he had been debating getting a pet for a long, long while.

So imagine his surprise when you had handed off a chimera to him the minute he got home after a particularly rough bounty. Even the most snarkiest, annoying personality would have him charmed. It could constantly choose you over him, and he’d still fawn over the thing. He’s happy you have someone to keep you company when he’s away, but the little kid in him (who remained, despite the fact that everything around him had burned to ash) is much more happy to come home to a pet once more.

⎯ Gallagher

“Another stray, hm?”

Despite the chimera’s protests that it is not a stray, GALLAGHER doesn’t seem to mind a new pet. He’ll just pretend he didn’t hear that comment about the chimera looking like him. You had compared him to a dog so many times before, that he was practically immune. Even if a chimera wasn't a dog, or a cat, or… well, there was no use in wondering what exactly it was. Though, he was quite intrigued that you had brought home something from Amphoreus of all places, it seems that the nameless just keep going for bigger and bigger marks.

The chimera itself is quite happy to get away from its work and laze about. On the days that Gallagher is home, it enjoys curling up on his lap (or his chest, if Gallagher is napping), and bathing in his and your attention. It’s quite domestic really, you have seen Gallagher with his other pets before, but he’s more of a big dog kind of guy. To see something relatively small curled up with him, when he’s watching TV or getting ready for bed, it makes you feel… light.

He’s also quite happy to have a pet that can actually talk back. Gallagher often catches himself muttering to himself because of how much he tends to talk to his pets. So when he gets responses from the chimera, even if it’s asking to go back to bed or telling him that this work is just ‘too much’ (all Gallagher was doing was pouring himself a drink, the chimera simply chose to follow him), it was still wonderful for him to have a buddy. It’s not everyday that you have a pet that can talk back to you, right?

⎯ Sunday

“Ah… you thought of me…?”

Now, SUNDAY isn’t against pets, he’s just a little nervous. The last pet he had… Well, you know what happened to it. But, by all means a chimera is an extraterrestrial. So, naturally, he’s a little shocked. Even if the little chimera is as cute as a button and just so damn happy to be in his lap. While he knew stepping aboard the Astral Express would mean he would see quite a lot– which included different planets, and by proxy, different flora, fauna, people, and what not– he never really expected to be face to face with such a… thing.

Looking into its wide, golden eyes, however, he feels a sense of… kinship. As weird as it is. He does his best to ignore it, not to get too overly attached to the chimera. After all, surely you must bring it back to Amphoreus. Right? He does his best to ignore the papers in your hands, and chooses instead to believe that this ‘adoption’ is more of a ‘foster’ situation.

That worry dissipates with the coming days. He finds himself quite enamored with the chimera, even sneaking it leftovers when he can. He doesn’t mean to, but he ends up reading the creature passages from his books, or from some data entries he borrowed from the archive. In fact, the idea that you would have to bring the chimera back breaks his heart a little. Not that you would, it’s quite cute to watch the chimera follow Sunday around.

⎯ Argenti

“What a stunning creature!”

Isn’t the word ‘cute’ better instead? Nevertheless, ARGENTI is quite enraptured by the chimera. So much so that he doesn’t seem to realize the similarity of the creature. Really, when you saw the sparkle in its eyes, you knew this was perfect for him. The similarity was uncanny, really. With the way the chimera was staring into your very soul, chattering off (which, you could already imagine it was praising the beauty of you), a part of you wanted to get it contacts.

Needless to say, The chimera is glued to Argenti. Or perhaps it's the other way around? The man doesn’t have any traveling companions, and he had preferred for you to stay on his ship whenever he was out on one of his excursions. The chimera, however, seemed to be quite the trusty companion. That little ‘awoo’ must be vicious, given how highly the man spoke of it. ‘It’s like a cry from the very heavens!’

It seems your gift is quite well loved, though. Not that Argenti would ever dislike your gifts. You could give him a rock– one that isn’t even shiny or shaped in an interesting way– and he’d treat it like you’d have proposed to him. The chimera, however, seems to have struck a rather special chord within him. It is hard to know if you’ve truly surprised him, but you can definitely see how attached he is to the chimera. It has been too long since someone gave him something so meaningful. Perhaps even the first time.

⎯ Mr. Reca

“Ah, is this a new crew member…? Or perhaps, a new star?”

Is there a universe where MR. RECA isn’t looking for some scene to capture? ‘Cause it’s definitely not this one. No one has ever had the ability to capture something, anything from Amphoreus, so of course he’s fascinated with the chimera. He glosses over the fact that the critter looks like him. Not enough time to think about that, when this is a star in the making. What shall he come up with this time?

He unknowingly dotes on that poor little Chimera, as well… in his own way. There’s no critiques for the creature's performance (though, you must think that it doesn’t understand exactly what Reca’s goal is.), only dazzling praise, even for something as simple as curling up and taking a nap. Such a tiny little thing, full of all sorts of inspiration! It deserves nothing more than the best of praise!

For at least a month straight, he simply cannot stop thinking of ideas and ways to make the chimera a star. A documentary, perhaps. No, no, that’s too simple. A thriller, maybe? Now, that would be interesting. How could he use such a cute creature for such a medium…? Ah, so many things to work out! This excitement keeps him fueled for days. Oftentimes, he’s writing out scenes at his desk, pacing, or even talking your ear off. All while the chimera is curled up in his lap, content as can be.

⎯Sampo Koski

“And what’s this? A new business venture?”

Of course SAMPO looks at the chimera and sees a business opportunity. Not that he’s planning to sell it, no… this little fella could be the new face of his business. Cold Feet Junior, even. Needless to say, he loves the chimera. Who wouldn’t? Such a precious little treasure from way out there, somewhere not even the great Sampo Koski can get to.

Aside from the chimera now being the face of his business, he brings the thing everywhere like it’s a little chihuahua. It gets pampered to high heaven, with little treats even you have never heard about before. From all sorts of places, from Izumo to Punklorde. You start to wonder if these treats are even good for the chimera, considering just how different these foods must be from the ones back home. The chimera seems fine enough, however.

When he can’t bring the chimera with him, however, he’s the most pathetic man you know. He’ll fake cry, use a voice that is just so tear-jerking, and say a sorrowful goodbye to the chimera. He texts you everyday when he is out, begging for pictures, asking if it's okay, asking if it's eaten… and so on. You, of course, do your best to shower him with pictures of the chimera, assuring him that it’s never been better. To which, he always responds with some sort of keyboard smash (rare for him), and praises going your way, and the chimeras way.

⎯ Jing Yuan

“Hmm…”

JING YUAN could never turn down a gift from you, of course. Especially one so cute. If you hadn’t caught him at such an inopportune time (also known as nap time), perhaps his reaction would be more grand. Or the same, he’s never been one for big expressions. A simple ‘thank you’, a kiss, and something in return has always been his style. However, this seems like a lot more than just a simple gift. A creature from Amphoreus… and a potential playmate for Mimi.

‘Potentially’ becomes a ‘definitely’ after some socializing. Instead of the chimera attaching itself to Jing Yuan, it’s very, very fond of Mimi. The grimalkin is quite well tempered, if not tolerant. The way the Chimera climbs onto him, like he is a mighty steed and not a proud lion… it’s charming in its own way. And yet, all Mimi does is maybe huff a little, and be on his merry way. Most of the time, he’d do the exact opposite the chimera wanted, by the sound of its annoyed chirps. Perhaps this was his way of playing with such a smaller creature…?

The chimera ultimately finds its spot on the bed. When you and Jing Yuan cuddled up, Mimi took his spot at the end of the bed. The chimera, unsure whether to stick themself at the end of the bed, in between you and Jing Yuan, or just sleep on the floor. Before it decides to exclude itself, Mimi makes the decision for it. With another huff (perhaps irritated that he had to leave his warm spot), he hops down from the bed, grabs the chimera by its scruff (not without it complaining, of course), and hops right back up. When you wake up in the morning, you find the chimera, stuck between Mimi’s paws, with the most content, familiar, smile on its face, while Mimi licks up its cheek repeatedly.

⎯ Blade

“...”

How many more times will this happen? First a cat cake, now a chimera. What’s next? A seal? BLADE really doesn’t know how to react. To be thought of is wonderful, but does it really always have to be in this kind of way? How many more creatures out there look like him? He can only hope you don’t find them for your ‘Blade collection’. Those poor, poor souls…

Regardless of his… pondering, the gift doesn’t go unappreciated. The chimera and Blade are like two halves of a whole, really. While Blade is sulking, so is the chimera… right next to him. When you adopted it, you swore it was just full of energy. Chirping and chattering to anyone who would listen, chimera, human, chrysos heir, no one was free from its chattering. In truth, you thought it was silly that something that held such a resemblance to such a broody man had such whimsy.

So, to see the little critter suddenly adapt Blade’s sulking and… edge, it’s a little surprising. Or not, if you understood how this tale has gone before. It’s actually kind of cute in its own odd way. When you point out the similarities in personality, all Blade feels he can do is grumble and huff. He should be used to your penchant for finding things that look and act like him by now, but somehow you always manage to surprise him.

⎯ Luocha

“What an… intriguing gift…”

LUOCHA is never one to turn down your gifts, and he certainly won’t start now. But, despite the worlds he has traveled to and all he’s seen, somehow he’s never seen quite a creature. Perhaps it is the resemblance that throws him off. He doesn’t want to turn down your gift, but where he travels to may not be the safest place for the little Chimera. Very rarely does he stay home long enough to take care of any pet, either. He rationalizes that while it is a little amusing, this must be for you.

And of course he isn’t going to take that kind of companionship from you. It’s actually kind of endearing to him that you went through all this trouble to find a cute little look-alike. He’s more entertained by the way you dote on it, by the way you call it ‘Luo-Luo’ (even though the Chimera seems over it), and he wonders to himself if you truly got this chimera for him, or to have something to coddle while he was away. Not that you coddled him, normally. He isn’t a man to be doted on like that, and you are just too shy to do that to him.

He indulges in the adoption of the chimera, of course. Even when he’s out for months on end, he makes sure to call and check up on the Chimera (and you, but he does that normally). He shouldn’t be so surprised to see all the little outfits you’ve stuck the critter in, from cats (which makes no sense, considering the body of a chimera was a lion), to wolves. He wonders how many people you have commissioned for these little outfits…

⎯ Jiaoqiu

“And this charming little companion is…?”

JIAOQIU truly thought that the Tuskipir would be his only pet. He didn’t really need a service animal outside of the emotional support, considering he had a cane, and he knew the Yaoqing like the back of his hand. You, however, decide that if one critter does well, why won’t two do better? Plus, while the Tuskipir was used for more emotional wellbeing, Chimeras were experienced with work, and when you think about it, they’d make quite the service animals.

What a shame that he can’t see the resemblance clearly. Still, he is quite touched by the thoughtfulness behind your gift. The chimera warms up to him all too easily, immediately taking its place by his side. Jiaoqiu doesn’t verbally admit it, but being thought of in such a way, especially after a trip that took you across the cosmos warms his heart. Even if he is pretty much completely recovered, it was quite nice to be cared for. Even as a healer.

In truth, as endearing as your gift was, he had expected the chimera to get in his way, under his legs, and become annoying in all sorts of ways. Given how happily it yipped and barked when you first arrived with it, he truly assumed it would be an annoyance. He’s pleasantly surprised that once the chimera has acclimated and settled, it becomes a wonderful companion. Chimera’s stomachs are so strong, you think, watching as Jiaoqiu feeds the critter a particular slice of beef that almost looks red, with the amount of spice he has put in the hotpot broth.

⎯ Moze

“I… Hm.”

It is rare for MOZE to talk without thinking. It is even rarer to interrupt his thoughts all together. You should be impressed with yourself. When met with the gloomy demeanor of the Chimera, Moze can only squint, open his mouth to form words, and ultimately lose them. What is he supposed to say? He’s never had a pet before, the strays in the alleyways who liked his scent were the closest thing to having one. All he really can do is hold the Chimera and stare into those oddly familiar eyes.

There is a quiet camaraderie between the two, once the confusion settles from Moze’s mind. When Moze is home (considering his work is too dangerous for any sort of pet), the two have a tacit, quiet understanding that you can’t quite… get. The Chimera follows Moze around, at a distance, and studies him closely, as if trying to commit his movements to memory. You swear, at some point, you heard Moze say ‘this is how you sweep’. When you walked in the room to check, the two were quiet as can be, while Moze was sweeping the kitchen floor, the Chimera perched on the counter.

When Moze is out, the Chimera sits by the door, or in the living room, or sometimes sleeps in his spot on the bed while waiting for him. It’s almost kind of heartbreaking when you think about it, knowing Moze is gone for most of the week. At the very least, it seems the Chimera is much, much more receptive to cuddles than your dear lover is. As much as it seems to miss its twin, it can’t resist curling up in your arms and taking a nap. It seems that the Chimera catches up on sleep in Moze’s place.

⎯ Mydeimos

“Hmph.”

MYDEI refuses to acknowledge the similarity. He pouts, sighs, and does his best to walk off and ignore the furry little companion you had brought home. The chimera trots after Mydei regardless, happy as can be, even if the man was ignoring it. You had to commend him, really. If you had something that cute following you around, you would fold immediately. But Mydei was stronger than you (and much, much more stubborn).

When Mydeimos wasn’t home, the chimera took up all his spots, short of the one in the kitchen. It’d sit in his chair at the table, enjoy the warmth of the private bath, and even take his spot on the bed. Which, Mydei truly doesn’t appreciate. Some days he is out from dawn till dusk, but he has always made it a point to come back home just before you fall asleep, so the two of you could sleep together. So to find you curled up with this little rascal, who was oh so happy to take his place, he doesn’t know what to feel.

He’s not jealous. No, no, he swears he isn’t. Why would he be jealous of a chimera? How silly. Despite that, you notice how he’s suddenly in much more of a rush to see you on the days that he is gone. He tries to beat the chimera to the bed, establishes his dominance in the kitchen (as if anyone could beat him), and makes it known– well.. you don’t know what he’s trying to prove to a chimera of all things. But it’s quite funny watching him try to one-up the creature, who was simply acting oblivious. Everytime you pet the chimera or praise it, you can always hear Mydei sigh. It’s not that he was neglecting the chimera in any way, not, he just had to one-up it. Almost every time he could.

⎯ Phainon

“Aha… Do I really look like this thing…?”

You are the third person to tell PHAINON a certain chimera looks like him. It worries him a little. Does he, a truly fearsome warrior that totally doesn’t have the air of a puppy, look like such a cute little creature? Looking into the chimera’s eyes, which are practically shining, he can’t help but concede… only for you, though.

The very first thing this chimera does is challenge Phainon himself. To his surprise (and dismay), the chimera starts to take all his favorite spots. Right by your legs, on your chest when you're sleeping, or when you're just laying down, and even in the baths. You find it cute, but Phainon… he’s not one to turn down a challenge, even if it’s initiated by a chimera. He takes every chance he can get to sweep you up off your feet and carry you off somewhere the chimera can only watch, like the hot baths.

While you find this kind of charming, if not funny, you can't help but feel bad for the chimera. When you show even the smallest amount of pity for it, however, Phainon decides its time to switch tactics. Instead of taking everything the Chimera did as a challenge, now it was a battle of charm. Anytime the Chimera begs for food (within his proximity), he rests his chin on your shoulder and tries to snatch the food from you. If the Chimera is sleeping on your lap, he makes an effort to also try and lay his head in your lap, and always, always, looks up at you with those pretty blues. You have to admit it's cute, but kind of pathetic. Not that you would ever want him to change.

⎯ Anaxagoras

“Hmph. But it is no Dromas.”

You, of course, know about ANAXA’s love for Dromases more than anything. You were one of the few who were graced by him and his magnificent onesie’s presence, after all. But, still, when you saw the little chimera, with its muted green coat and its missing eye, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Perhaps he is truly amused at the fact that you have found his doppelganger? Or maybe he’s finally figured out where one of his eyepatches has finally gone… either way, his tone is hard to read.

It is not long until you notice how he dotes on the chimera… in his own way, at least. He doesn’t outright ignore the critter when it toddles behind him, and on more than one occasion you have caught him talking to it, prattling on about his theories while he cleans his gun. Despite acting annoyed that you had taken one of his eyepatches for a ‘silly little costume’, he does not attempt to remove it. Not once. You take this as a victory, of course.

The real kicker is when you caught him sewing a Dromas onesie for the Chimera. His hands aren’t the steadiest, but he sits so quietly (for once), all while the Chimera lays curled up right next to his legs. You don’t mean to stare for too long, but he ends up catching you. Instead of acting shy (Which, he never did), and brushing you off, he only huffs softly, and shakes his head, before going back to his sewing. You read this as an invitation to properly watch, and when you step into the room, he doesn’t complain.

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victoryai · 3 days ago

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7th Lord in the Signs (spouse focused)

I already wrote on 1st lord in the signs here so I guess you understand what I mean by 7th Lord in the signs.

7th lord in the signs is only concerned about which sign the 7th house Lord is in. It don matter here which planet is your 7th lord but rather which sign your 7th lord is placed in.

7th Lord in Aries: Spouse acts in a direct and straightforward manner, often driven by impulse. Has a prominent face card, with a nice build, but not very tall. Making decisions spontaneously, and sometimes lacking strategy. Hardly procrastinates I guess 🤷 and very adamant in nature. Good thing that they're decisive In nature and able to defend their territory.

7th Lord in Taurus: Spouse is concerned about money, financial stability and security and food 😉. Or better still, spouse has good looking pockets and might be a big spender. Wants all the luxury and comfort, believes that sharing is not 🚫 caring and everyone should have their own stuff, probably stingy 🤷, a foodie, plumpy in nature, clear skin, beautiful/handsome of course.

7th Lord in Gemini: Spouse is likely to be on the slimer side, not to tall too, likes music, dances and writes stuff in free time. Has a small 🤏 feature somewhere on the face, maybe small crafty eyes 😂, does a lot of overthinking, wonders how he/she is supposed to digest all the goddamn information, good communicator and can probably spend the whole time talking to you, admirable wit.

7th Lord in Cancer: Spouse is traditional in nature, family oriented and too sensitive sometimes. Seems like a kind person, hardly weird and in their senses most of the time. Loves privacy and prefers to sulk than spill it out sometimes. Rollercoaster emotions range from 🤣😂😅😄😁 to 😐🥲😪😭. Not tall too. Probably plumpy in body nature and attitude.

7th Lord in Leo: Spouse has big dreams, and one of them is being a star, spouse loves to be appreciated (I mean who doesn't want that). If it's a lady,she's wants nothing less than baby girl treatment. Considers flirting a good exercise to check if their still attractive 😂. Will probably tell you that they had a lot of options but settled for you, just kidding of course, also hates to be unnoticed, 😎

7th lord in Virgo: Spouse is very practical in nature and can notice the tiniest of details. Calls a spade a spade probably because it's a spade 🤷. More logical than emotional, interested in health and wellness, probably loves animals alot. Very organized and put together, more on the slim side and looks younger than actual age. Never forgets anything that is important, and stands through with you during tough times.

©Victoryai

7th Lord in Libra: Spouse is beautiful of course, diplomatic in nature and friendly, has a good deal of acquaintances, more feminine in nature and behavior, popular among the ladies 🤷, has great taste and hardly ever sober. Spouse is well liked by a lot of people and is balanced in nature. Takes a little too much time in making decisions but they make good ones. Not aggressive and hardly oppressive.

7th Lord in Scorpio: Spouse is magnetism itself, a secretive person very different from the rest. Has an air of detachment to them but if they get attached to you, then 💀. Probably, gets things from others easily, has gone through some major shit and transformation, not easy to decode, beautiful/handsome of course , has probably a experienced near death situation.

7th Lord in Sagittarius: Spouse has a great deal of knowledge and experience. Probably travels alot or is a foreigner to you in some way. Always in good spirits and hardly ever down except it gets too hard. Will probably tell you an ancient story you haven't heard of. Good humor and face that always looks like he/she is laughing. Religious person or has strong beliefs.

7th Lord in Capricorn: Spouse is a serious person and doesn't fool around most of the time. Might be a public figure or someone who has to keep up with their reputation in public. Looks a lot better in older years, is a leader and has a great deal of responsibilities sometimes, someone in a place of authority to others, will make a good Boss and father figure.

7th Lord in Aquarius: Spouse is unconventional and refuses to accept some "norms", innovative thinking, preferring to walk alone than follow a wrong crowd. Spouse is spontaneous in nature, getting ideas on random days and mostly bad timing😂, eccentric and a lil 🤏 weird, might be in the crowd but is not part of the crowd, possesses unusual intellect. OMG I think your spouse is so much like me🤔😂

7th Lord in Pisces: Spouse is easily lost in thoughts, empathetic in nature and emotionally smart. Has one particular activity he/she is addicted to, has spiritual gifts and probably interested in spirituality itself, Painfully quiet sometimes and preferring isolation rather than company. Has a big heart and forgives a lot, but do they forget?🤔. Sleeps too much or dreams too much. Could be very deceptive too 🤫.

©Victoryai

#astrology #astrology observations #astro observations #solar return #lunar return #solar return observations #ascendant in solar return chart #astrology community #astro community #©victoryai

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ventique18 · 3 days ago

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So they started sightseeing at Seaglass Park, which has a bit of a climb to see the sights below. It's very beautiful and everyone's breath is taken away, but Grim, being the littlest guy with the shortest legs, starts complaining.

Jade: "There's a bench over there. You can sit down for a bit while admiring the sights."

Grim: "Nyahaha, I call dibs!"

Riddle: "You don't have to run. The bench is big enough for all of us."

OMFG all of them are going to sit side by side? Like a happy group of BEST FRIENDS? WWWWWWWW

Jade: "I won't lose."

Yuu: "No way I'd settle for less than first place!"

Grim, Jade, and Yuu started racing 😂

All of them started scrambling to be first to the bench LMFAOOOOO

NRC when they find an opportunity to fight each other for any reason:

Malleus: "All of us ended up racing."

Riddle: "All I could think of was that I didn't want to lose....."

Rook: "Hehehe, it feels like being a child again."

They don't say who won the race though. I'm guessing Riddle didn't, at least. 😂

Malleus then notices that this looks like a popular walking trail, with not just people, but dogs as well. Jade explains that according to the legends, the Mermaid Princess' human husband had a dog so brave that without worrying for his own safety, jumped to the see to save his owner. Dogs are seen as lovely pets in that place because of that.

Jade: "As there are no dogs under the sea, I haven't seen one in a long time...."

Jade: "I remember being so excited the first time I saw so many dogs walking this city."

He likes dogs? That would be so cute but I don't trust that face?

Malleus: "Indeed. I understand the joy of witnessing a completely different culture first-hand very well."

Jade: "Yes... Ah, look. There's a dog over there as well!"

Rook: "That's not a dog. It's a stray cat."

?????????? JADE CONFUSED A CAT WITH A DOG 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Jade: "Oh, is that right?"

Malleus: "What an absurd man."

Riddle: "Malleus-senpai. Calm down...!"

😭😭😭 Malleus got mad at Jade because he confused a dog and a cat???? Did he get triggered because people would also call him a lizard? 😭😭😭😭😭 Tbf since fae are very in-tune with nature, this might as well be racism for them LMFAOOOO

Edit: meltycatthing in the comments mentioned that it's probably a reference to him getting angry at people not knowing the difference between a Gargoyle and a Grotesque!

Jade then shares that the city also holds dog races and grooming contests.

Jade: "Grim, you should participate as well."

Grim: "I'M NOT A DOG!"

Jade: "How unfortunate. I heard that the last winner was treated to a lavish meal....."

Grim: "Wha..... Really? Where do I sign up?"

Riddle: "Have you no dignity?"

GRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIM 🐕

#twisted wonderland #twst event spoilers #ventique translates #malleus draconia #jade leech #riddle rosehearts #rook hunt #twst grim #twst yuu

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babydoll372 · 23 hours ago

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Birthday Girl

Pairings: nerd!natasha romanoff x reader

Word count: 1591

Warnings: natasha is intersex (she has a penis), blowjobs, nat is inexperienced but not a virgin, nude Polaroids, masturbation (r), both are in college, a little angst, begging, cum eating

Natasha waited impatiently on her dorm bed, constantly glancing to the door to see if she missed a knocking sound. But then it finally came and she rushed over, opening it in a hurry and smiling wide as she saw you, and rocking back and forth between her toes and her heels.

“Happy birthday, my sweet girl!” You drew her in for a hug, rubbing her back with the hand not holding her gift. She held you even tighter, you had no idea how excited she was to see you. She saw you every few days, and each of them were her favorite, but this one was special. She had been alone all day, and considering she had a private dorm didn’t help with her loneliness at times. She wasn’t popular in college, she focused on her studies instead of going to parties or making friends, but that always seemed to outcast her, which led to having no one around to celebrate her special day. She went to her classes, and only one professor wished her a happy birthday. She got a text from you, her parents, a few friends back home, and her sister, but it didn’t feel complete until she got to hear you saying it.

“Thank you! I missed you a lot today, you know.” She exclaimed, slowly letting go of you and leaning back to look down at you, you were absolutely beautiful, she thought, the best birthday gift she could ever have. You frowned playfully and stood on your tippy toes to kiss her cheek before replying.

“I missed you too- so, so much! But now we get to spend the entire night together, aren’t you excited?” She nodded quickly, almost enough to make her glasses fall off as you chuckled, fixing them for her. You went over to the bed and Natasha mindlessly followed you, sitting with her legs crossed just like you while facing you. She stares at the bag excitedly, fidgeting with the ends of her cardigan sweater as it was placed in front of her.

“Can I open it yet?” She asked, not wanting to get scolded for opening it too soon. You agreed and she quickly threw the tissue paper aside, commenting on how beautiful the gift bag was firstly, and then getting to the first gift. “This is so cool! Thank you!” She looked at the large pack of books of the series she’s been waiting to finish on her game first before getting the books herself, then leaned over to give you a large hug and a kiss. Anytime she could, she’d give you a kiss, just so she could feel your lips on hers.

Next were the usual dorm supplies needed to be updated, and she once again thanked you for every single one. Then the Lego set she’s been dying to build with you, and when she was ready to just break it open and build it with you right then and there, you had to stop her and tell her there was more left. She found a little baggie that must’ve fallen to the bottom and picked it up, and before she could open it, you put your hand over hers.

“I just want you to know these are meant for you and only you, I ask that you hide them. And, uhm…I don’t do this often so I hope you like them, I guess.” Your words of worry made her furrow her eyebrows and quickly agree to your terms, but then open the bag to reveal 6 different Polaroids. She adjusted her glasses to see them better and her eyes widened as she saw multiple provocative photos.

“Holy crap…I-..you- you look- wow.” She was blushing heavily, giggling to herself as she kept them close to her chest to look through them again and again, and you rolled your eyes playfully at her childish behavior.

“Which one are you looking at?”

“Uhm, it’s- it’s you naked in front of the mirror with your hand, uh, you know where.”

“You want to see it in real life?” She quickly looked up from the photos, her jaw dropping wide open in shock as she could only fathom a small nod and eventually the muttering of a few words.

“Yes please.” You swore you could see drool as you dropped to no layers and kneeled in front of her, asking her to lick your fingertips before bringing your hand to your clit and softly rubbing circles. You took your free hand and palmed her growing erection, humming as she whimpered at your touch.

“Tell me what you want, birthday girl.” You spoke in a low, seductive tone as she couldn’t form words, and she could only glance between your beautiful cunt and her palmed cock hidden behind her pants. “I can’t give you anything if you don’t tell me what you want, Natasha. Cmon, be a good girl for me, baby.” She gulped down her moan and nodded, desperately trying to give you what you wanted but knowing she would feel the utmost of embarrassment.

“I-…mphm, I want to have, uhm, I want to try something I saw before-“ She was cut off with yet another quiet moan, her hips thrusting into your hand ever so slightly.

“Yeah? What did you see before, tell me.” You let out an accidental groan, your fingers moving slightly faster amongst your clit as you could feel arousal pooling out of you.

“It was a blowjob…you don’t have to do it, I just would really like to try it for my birthday, if you don’t mind.” She mustered up the courage to get out the words, and almost instantly felt as though she regretted them, only to see your lips turn up into a sly smirk. You slowly removed your hand from your aching clit, promising yourself to return as you reached into the gift bag and gently placed a crown on Natasha’s head that read, ‘birthday girl’. You grinned and leaned in to sloppily kiss her, not wasting much time before trailing down to her crotch where you quickly pulled down her pants and boxers and salivated at the sight of her thick, hard cock. You eagerly wrapped your lips around the head, making her gasp at the feeling while your tongue swirled around, collecting her pre cum with a moan that vibrated through her.

“Oh fuck..p-please..” She didn’t know what she was begging for exactly, but she knew she wanted more of whatever she felt right now. She could feel more of her cock being enveloped by your warm, sweet mouth and placed a hand over her lips to quiet her gutterful noises, but as you glanced up to see this, you didn’t take it lightly and let her go with a slight pop and took her hand in yours.

“Don’t you dare think about hiding those pretty noises from me, sweetheart. I don’t care if the entire dormitory hears you- fucking let them.” You took her hand and let it to your head and her other soon followed when you returned to your previous position. A tear fell from her eye as the pleasure overtook her, and all she could imagine was your tongue replaced by your sweet, warm walls as you rode her, letting her cum inside you as a birthday treat. Your tongue was heavenly, but everything seemed to remind her of her lack of experience so far, yet luckily the desire was too great for her to even think or worry about anything else.

“That feels so- shit! That feels so good, right there, baby, please right there!” She moaned breathlessly, her stomach heaving up and down as her breaths were shallow and unobtained. She watched your head bob and her hands guide you, even if they were doing little in the matter, and couldn’t help but feel pure ecstasy.

“I’m- oh, please! Please, please, please, you’re gonna make me cum! I- I want to cum, I really wanna cum..” She brought out a whisper into the hot, sex-filled air. She knew you’d let her when she was ready, but she was absolutely petrified of the thought of her seed filling you without your worded consent.

“Baby, I- I can’t hold..mmph! I can’t hold it much longer- I wanna cum for you- please let me cum in your mouth for you, I’ll be a good girl, I promise!” She nodded to herself eagerly, swearing she’d be good for you like she always wanted to be, that felt like her main priority in life. She watched you shake your head yes, making her instantly release without being able to hold back, and loud whimpers filled the air as your name was repeated, her glasses foggy and her mind reeling. She didn’t know how she lasted that long, usually she lasted two minutes of your touch, tonight it had to have been longer, right? She watched your head come up after her cock went limp and her juices emptied, and she felt something in her stir as she saw your lips still covered.

“You dirty girl, your cum got all over me…cmon, clean up your mess.” She nervously leaned in and licked your lips, feeling you turn it into a kiss as she could taste herself on you for the first time, and she enjoyed it. She cleaned you dry, making sure there was no trace of her left on you as you leaned back, cupping her cheeks with a soft grin now.

“Happy birthday, Natasha.”

#natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff #Natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha x reader #natasha romanov #natasha smut

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youreonmymind37 · 1 day ago

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“Why do you bend down exposing your lovely tits to me?”

My stepdaughter shrugged and pursed her lips as if to say “because, I’m a home-wrecker”.

I drove her to her community college. She is taking hairdressing courses. Tia had her driver license suspended due to her DUI.

She walked away from my SUV. “Bye!” I called.

Later that night, I rolled over to her gold digger mother and put my hand over her cold shoulder.

“I’m sleeping,” said the Icy Queen.

I rolled over to get my slippers and drudged to the hallway to the den. Laying down on the couch, I watched a couple of soft porn on the giant tv. And, I fell asleep…

…In the pale blue light, I could see someone was sucking my cock. I thought it was a dream.

“Oh, daddy, your sperms got all over my face,” said my stepdaughter. Tia licked my baby-making goo which covered her fingers. She smiles wickedly.

“Are you crazy?” I whispered.

“She doesn’t hear,” said Tia cat-crawling over me, “Mother had cannabis, silly.”

Tia cuddled-up with me.

“I thought that you don’t like my body,” my stepdaughter said, “I tried countless different things. Even not wearing a bra! So, I said to myself, I gonna to blow-job your cock, daddy.”

Tia stretched her arms around my chest.

“I will talk to my wife about your behavior, young lady!!”

“She isn’t your wife,” said Tia raising her pretty face.

“What do you mean, Tia?” I said, “Jackie is my wife.”

“Nope,” she said like a child, “She didn’t divorced her husband. My dearest mother is a bigamist.”

I was shocked.

“Poor daddy. Rahul probably live in Thailand. I guess. The way he fucked me,” she was excited, “Fantastic.”

My cock begin to rise.

“Oh, look what we have here,” she staring down of my hardened wood. Her bottom rose-up and her leg rose with it. Tina carefully took my cock and fed it into her slippery snatch.

“Oooooooooo, Daddy,” she said, “you don’t know what a pleasure this it. Oh, fuck.”

She wrapped her silky arms around my neck.

“Daddy, you’re the best so far. I mean, I fucked my ex-stepdads all the way to me being thirteenth years old.”

My hands stroking her back and started grabbing her ass. Tia grunted and kissed my face. My fingers slapped her behinds.

“I’m coming, daddy!” my stepdaughter screamed,

My hands gripped her ass. With the hold I flipped her body and planted her on my couch. I plummeted her wet cunt turning her juice into fountains. We met over our tongues like those snakes slithering around each others.

“Ooooooooooohhhh!” moaning my littleness one.

My cock-head erupted with streaming of strings of white jism. My cock drenched my stepdaughter’s thighs, pussy, belly and breasts.

We laughed at the sheer volume of my cum.

The light went on.

“How dare you, Alan!” said Jackie, “I want you to see my house!”

My eye winked at my younger lover.

“You know, Jackie, this marriage was a scam by YOU”.

I got to my bare feet and was calm, “I’m ordering you to leave my property.”

Jackie was silent. And, she face was going through a lot of emotions.

“My attorney will sue you!” said the lying gold digger, “Tia. Let’s go.”

“Nope,” said Tia.

“What!?”

“My daddy will take good care of me,” said Tia cradling my abdomen.

“Yes, I will,” I said soothing my stepdaughter, “In fact, I gave a third boner coming up….”

I kissed my stepdaughter violently on her lips.

No one knows what happened to this gold digger…

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okwonyo · 13 hours ago

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MEOW ？ ◜ ᴗ ◝ （ sjy ）｡｡⠀

୨୧ bringing a kitty home !

❪ 𝖠𝖬𝖮𝖱𝖤 𝖬𝒾𝖮 ❫ 제이크 & fem ! rea 🐈 fluff established relationship ㅋㅋ skinship kissing ── 사랑｡ REBLOG FOR A CAT !

“welcome home, my love,” jake greets you after opening the door. he leans in to give a kiss to his wife, whom he missed dearly, but he halts in the middle of his action. “what is that?”

“our new baby,” you bring the cat closer to his face as you answer.

jake stays quiet for a moment. he stares at the pet comfortable in your arms, held softly in the hands of the one he loves. the kitten, which was asleep for a while, opens its eyes in a slow motion. they both hold eye contact.

jake blinks, tilts his head to the side and the cat does the same—as if it was making fun of him. when he looks at it for a little too long, he swears it looks like one of his friends.

his eyes fall on the hand holding the baby animal. they trail over your delicate fingers and stop at the shining rock on that one. then, naturally, he ends up looking at you, who is looking at the cat as if you birthed it. he chuckles.

he steps beside you, running his hand down your back to make you go inside the house. he closes the door behind him and you stay still— too busy patting the cat in your arms.

his hand reaches the top of your head, and he pats you too. through a quiet laugh, he sighs fondly, “princess, we already have a pet.”

you both look down at layla at your feet. you greet her in the soft voice you always use, as if she was a baby. honestly, it makes jake weak in the knees. but you don’t need to know that, do you?

when you turn your head to his direction, your husband realizes that he has started to pat your head absentmindedly. it doesn’t bother you that much, it seems.

“yes, it’s true,” you tell him, and he swears the cat gets closer to your chest. “but look at this orange tabby, our new kid.”

jake does look at it. the longer he does and the more a familiar face appears on the cat— he swears he has seen that cute look before!

“you know,” he starts, trailing his eyes off the orange tabby to look at you straight in the eyes. he runs his tongue over his lips gently before biting down a smile. he pats your hair as he whispers, “if you want kids so bad, we can find time, you know?”

you fake disgust: wearing a grimace that makes jake burst out of laughing as you push him away with your shoulder. “you are so gross,” you end up laughing too. “not in front of our children!”

you walk off with the new found child of yours, staring to the bedroom. jake hates to see you but, in these jeans, he loves to see you leave. and he guesses the kitten will stay in the house from now on.

he shrugs, “happy wife, happy life.” then he follows you for the welcome kiss you forgot to give him.

분지 ܃ this was very very fun and silly to write ^^ i hope you liked it :O

taglist is open !

#⠀𝑓 ⟡⠀命运’𝑠 ⠀#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen headcanons #enhypen drabbles #enhypen smau #jake #jake fluff #jake x reader #jake scenarios

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wordsofwhimsy · 1 day ago

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❀ꗥ～𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ～ꗥ❀

❀ꗥ～ Omni!Mark Edition!～ꗥ❀

Pairing: Omni!Mark Grayson x Southern Belle!Reader

Warnings: None

Tags: Fluff, slice-of-life, god Mark is trying so hard and it’s got me in a chokehold

Word Count: 2,268

Synopsis: Mark is an unquestioned powerhouse whose following in the steps of his father perfectly – which apparently includes playing the good guy role for a little while here on Earth. After saving the day in a place he had never visited before – Savannah, Georgia – he sees you for the first time, and he finds himself immediately captured by you. And bless his heart; he’s trying real hard.

a/n: waaaait omni-mark is actually too cute with her this turned out so good 😭

you can start reading the main series ❀ꗥ～ Here! ～ꗥ❀

The explosion rattled every window in downtown Savannah.

You were halfway through handing out church fliers for the bake sale when the sky opened up like the Good Lord Himself had decided to throw hands. Something mechanical shrieked overhead—a hunk of alien tech spiraling out of orbit—and folks scattered like hens. But you? You were too busy trying to help old Miss Calloway get her walker down the courthouse steps to run.

That’s when he showed up.

A blur of red and white streaked past, and the air cracked like thunder. The machine exploded mid-air, scattering debris, but not a single piece touched you. When the smoke cleared, he was hovering there—arms crossed, chest rising slow.

He looked like the kind of man Mama warned you about: handsome as the devil, with a jaw like sin and eyes sharp enough to cut. A blood red and pure white suit, that strange symbol on his chest, and not a hair out of place.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice deep and all business.

You blinked. Smiled. “Well, ain’t you just the tallest glass of sweet tea I’ve ever laid eyes on.” You dusted off your sundress, calm as anything. “I do believe you just saved my hide, sugar.”

He stared at you.

Actually stared. Like you’d grown wings.

“…You’re welcome,” he finally said, stiff as a board.

—

You figured that’d be it. Just another cape breezin’ through town, gone like a summer storm. Lord knew Savannah didn’t have the kind of villain activity to keep someone like him around.

But then, a week later: a bank robbery on Broughton.

You were across the street looking at fabric for a new church dress when the robbers burst in, masks askew and nerves twitchin’. Not thirty seconds passed before the front of the bank exploded outward in a thunderous crash, and guess who came walking through the smoke like Judgement Day in boots?

Omni-Mark.

Two would-be robbers unconscious. A van flipped. The building cracked clear down the façade.

He stood there for a second, breathing like he’d just fought a war. Then those eyes found you again.

“…Are you okay?” Same question. Same voice. Like he didn’t remember asking it the first time.

You dusted off your bag and smiled slow. “I was, until someone sent half the brickwork into my fruit basket.”

He blinked.

Didn’t apologize.

Just nodded once and flew off, leaving the street cracked and the bank’s ATM embedded in a mailbox.

The week after that?

Arson at a seafood joint. Only it wasn’t technically arson—it was an overenthusiastic crawfish boil gone wrong.

And who just so happened to swoop in and rescue two elderly patrons and a plate of hushpuppies?

You guessed it.

By the fourth “coincidence,” you’d had just about enough.

You were at the farmer’s market, haggling over okra and mindin’ your own, when some no-name villain calling himself “Professor Static” tried to rob the honey vendor. The man had jumper cables and a Bluetooth speaker duct-taped to his chest.

And still—here came red-and-white terror incarnate, landing hard enough to knock over a bushel of peaches and sending poor Professor Static into early retirement with one punch.

You didn't even flinch this time. You just turned and said:

“Well if it ain’t my own personal tornado again. You know, I’m startin’ to think the Lord sent you to test my nerves, not save ‘em.”

Mark, still brushing bits of villain off his knuckles, replied earnestly: “There was a threat in the area.”

You tilted your head. “Mmm. And this particular ‘threat’ required a man who can break the sound barrier and throw tanks?”

He blinked like a confused dog. Then just said: “Yes.”

You smiled sweetly. “Well bless your heart. Guess Savannah’s just become real high-priority all of a sudden.”

After that, it escalated.

You’d see him perched on the roof of the Piggly Wiggly while you grocery shopped. He once “coincidentally” flew past your book club meeting—held in the back of a tea shop.

Even the church roof getting repaired wasn’t spared — you caught him “inspecting the structural integrity” one morning. At six a.m.

“Coincidence,” he told you, solemnly.

“Mmhmm,” you replied, sipping your coffee on the porch. “And I’m the Queen of England.”

It all came to a head at the Sunday picnic behind the church.

You’d just handed Pastor Whitmore a plate of deviled eggs when a little boy started crying about his balloon floating up into a pecan tree. Before anyone could grab a step ladder, a sonic boom knocked over three lawn chairs and Omni-Mark landed in a crouch like a soldier behind enemy lines.

He plucked the balloon from the tree with surgical precision, handed it to the wide-eyed boy, then turned—like he couldn’t help it—and locked eyes with you.

You didn’t break your stride. Just walked up to him, parasol bouncing against your shoulder, and smiled.

“Well hey there, stranger,” you said like you hadn’t seen him five times that week. “You just happen to be floatin’ by again today, huh?”

“I was nearby.”

“Oh really?” You tapped your lip with one gloved finger. “Because far as I can tell, Savannah’s been quieter than a cat nap in August—until you started showin’ up.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it.

You leaned in just a touch, that parasol bouncing lightly on your shoulder, and let your voice drip warm like honey on a biscuit.

“Now sugar, I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but if I didn’t know any better…” You paused, let him look at you, take you in like he always did — like he didn’t understand how something so soft could hold his attention so hard. “…I’d say you’re sweet on me.”

That got him.

He stiffened. Visibly. Brows drawn down like you’d just spoken ancient Sumerian.

“I’m what?” he asked.

You blinked. “Sweet on me.”

“…Is that a—threat?”

You nearly choked.

“Well no, darlin’,” you laughed. “It means… you’ve taken a shine to me. Got a fondness. Somethin’ warm and fluttery in your chest every time you see me walk by in a sundress.”

He stared at you like you’d spoken in riddles. “I don’t know if I have that.”

You arched a brow. “You been followin’ me all over town like a lost bloodhound with a crush and you don’t even know?”

“I know I see you,” he said, slowly. “And it… interrupts everything else. I think about you when I’m not near you. I look for you in crowds. I don’t understand it.”

Your heart did a little hiccup. Not that you’d show it.

Then he shifted—just slightly—and gestured behind him like he’d almost forgotten.

“I saw this,” he said, dead serious, “and I thought of you.”

You followed his hand.

And there it was.

A tree. Not just any tree—a full-grown, live oak, trunk thick as your grandmother’s front porch columns, roots still clumped with Georgia clay.

“I brought it,” he added plainly. “For you.”

You turned fully now, dress swishing, lips parted.

“…You brought me a tree.”

“It’s strong,” he said, like he was listing military assets. “Deep roots. It survives storms. And it’s beautiful.”

You stared.

He looked almost… hopeful. Like he wasn’t sure he’d done it right, but he really wanted to.

You pressed your hand to your chest and sighed. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“Did I choose wrong?” he asked, suddenly uncertain. “Is this not a… courtship gesture?”

You had to bite your bottom lip to keep from laughing—though not unkindly. No, it wasn’t mockery—it was fondness. Pure and surprised and maybe just a little fluttery.

“No,” you said at last, stepping up to him. “It ain’t wrong. It’s just…”

You rested your hand gently on the center of his chest, right over that insignia, and smiled.

“…You’re real strong, real fast, and real bad at this.”

He looked down at your hand. At your smile. And for the first time, his posture eased.

“…I’ll learn,” he said.

“Lord help me,” you muttered, half to yourself, “you’re cute—but you sure ain’t right.”

Behind you, someone whispered, “Is that your boyfriend, baby? He brought you a tree.”

You sighed. “No, ma’am. Not yet.” Then looked back at the man who could snap planets in half but was standing there like a schoolboy with a daisy, and added:

“But he’s tryin’ real hard.”

—

You should’ve known the tree was just the beginning.

The very next week, you came back from choir practice, humming “Precious Lord” under your breath with a casserole dish in one arm and a tote bag of hymnals in the other—only to stop dead on the sidewalk.

Because your house?

Was gone.

Completely, utterly gone. Just a smooth patch of red Georgia clay and some very confused squirrels.

You didn’t even drop your casserole. Just squinted at the empty lot and muttered, “Oh, hell.”

You hadn’t even had time to call the police when a blur of red and white landed softly on your lawn—just popped into existence like some kind of good-intentioned superheroic ghost.

Mark stood there with his arms folded, looking like he’d done something monumental and was waiting for you to notice.

“Hi,” he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “I moved your house.”

You blinked. “…You moved my house?”

He nodded. “Yes. I reinforced the supports and rotated it thirty-six degrees for optimal morning exposure. The noise levels in your previous neighborhood were above what I deemed safe. I’ve included natural barriers. Defensive elevation. There’s even a freshwater stream now.”

“…You moved my whole damn house.”

He tilted his head. “Are you… not pleased?”

You finally set the casserole down on a tree stump, took a deep breath, and strode over to him in three deliberate clicks of your Sunday heels.

“Mark, darlin’… I know you mean well,” you began, voice soft and syrupy, “but courtin’ a woman does not involve real estate displacement.”

“I didn’t damage it,” he said quickly. “I preserved everything exactly. Even the wind chimes.”

You pressed two fingers to your temple like you were tryin’ to keep your soul from leavin’ your body.

Mark took a cautious step closer. “Would you… like to see it?”

You stared at him for a long moment, arms crossed tight, casserole cooling on the stump beside you.

“…You moved my house and you want to take me on a field trip to the scene of the crime?”

“I think you’ll like it,” he said, hopeful.

And before you could say yes, no, or bless your heart, he picked you up—gentle, cradling you like you were something breakable—and whooshed into the sky.

The wind tugged at your curls, your heels danglin’ mid-air, and you had half a mind to scold him for flying off with a lady like you were luggage.

But then you saw it.

Set right on the crest of a hill overlooking a winding stream, surrounded by swaying oaks and golden brush, was your house.

Your entire house. Not a board out of place. Porch swing still swayin’. Petunias somehow re-potted on the steps.

It looked like a catalog ad for “Backwoods Dreamin’” — and you had to admit, it was gorgeous. If deeply unhinged.

He landed smoothly and set you down on your front walk like he’d done something sweet instead of city-code-illegal.

“I aligned it so the kitchen gets the sunrise,” he explained. “And you mentioned wanting to see more stars at night, so I calculated the light pollution radius and picked the optimal spot.”

You turned slowly to look at him, expression flat.

“Mark… honey, I said I missed seein’ stars — I didn’t mean for you to relocate me to a planetarium in the woods.”

“…Oh.”

You exhaled, long and slow.

“Alright,” you said, hiking your dress slightly as you climbed the front steps of your own house now resting on foreign soil. “That’s it. We’re havin’ a talk.”

He followed behind like a student reporting to the principal.

You walked into your kitchen, poured sweet tea into two mason jars (still miraculously in your cupboards), and sat him down at the kitchen table like he was about to be scolded by every southern matriarch in history.

You set the jar in front of him before fishing in your purse and pulling out your emergency notepad (every proper southern lady carries one), flipping to a fresh page. Then, in very clear, looping script, you wrote:

How Not to Woo a Woman Like She’s a Hostile Planet(Southern Courting Etiquette for the Superpowered)

No lifting houses. Ever.

Flowers are romantic. Entire ecosystems are overkill.

Don’t solve mild inconveniences with extreme force.

Ask before giftin’ anything that could legally require zoning permits.

No surprise livestock. This includes alien livestock. Especially if they glow.

He peered over your shoulder like this was a test he didn’t study for.

“What’s ‘livestock’?” he asked seriously.

You slowly turned to him. “Did you bring me an animal?”

“…Not anymore.”

You didn’t ask.

You simply handed him the notebook, patted his chest gently, and said, “Study this, darlin’. Hard.”

He took it in both hands like you’d just handed him the Declaration of Independence.

“I will,” he promised. “I’ll memorize it. I can learn.”

And Lord help you.

You liked him.

“You’re sweet,” you said, standing and walking over to rest a hand gently on his shoulder. “And dumb as a box of river rocks, but sweet.”

He blinked. “Is that… good?”

You smiled. “Sugar, it’s a start.”

#invincible fanfic #invincible x reader #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson fanfic #whimsical words #omni mark x reader

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livesincerely · 2 days ago

Text

Later, Buck will swear up and down that this all could’ve been avoided if Eddie had just opened his mouth at any point and said something.

“It was pretty fucking obvious, tonto,” Eddie grumbles, an arm slung over his waist and his nose nestled against the curve of Buck’s throat⁠—where it’s been for the majority of the last thirty-six hours. “You’re just oblivious. Or blind. Or⁠—”

“Shut up,” Buck says, pulling him closer.

But to recap, Buck’s just arrived at the firehouse for his shift and the knowledge that Eddie won’t be joining him already has him grumpy and irritable—like an itch between his shoulder blades that he can’t quite scratch.

He’s really not looking forward to whichever floater he’s stuck with this time. The last guy that’d come in couldn’t coil his ropes or roll a hose for love or money, and he’d spent most of the shift cleaning up after him. So it’s a genuine surprise and delight to find Eddie sitting in the locker room when he walks in, already in his uniform.

“Hey!” Buck greets, feeling himself perk up like a freshly-watered plant. “What’re you doing here? I thought your leave started today?”

“Bobby called,” Eddie says, double knotting the laces on his boots. He’s forgone the gel today and a swoopy piece of hair falls over his forehead. Buck’s heart jolts in his chest. “Whittler’s partner went into labor just after midnight, and Ginsburg’s still in Cabo until Tuesday, so he asked if I could push it back a day.”

“Bad luck,” Buck sympathizes, digging through his locker. He’s almost positive he’s got a spare uniform buried in here somewhere… yep, there it is. He muffles a yawn against the back of his hand, then tugs the t-shirt he’s wearing over his head. “You gonna be okay out there? I know how you get.”

He senses more than sees the face Eddie makes at that.

“Yeah, well, it is what it is,” he says. “Thankfully I’d already made arrangements for Chris—he’s at Pepa’s until it’s over, and Carla’s helping coordinate his schedule. I’ve got some supplies left over from last time, but if I can’t make it to the store before it hits, I’ll just get groceries delivered.”

Now it’s Buck’s turn to make a face.

“No, you won’t, don’t lie,” he chides as he does up the buttons on his shirt. “Text me a list, I’ll drop off some stuff for you.”

Eddie huffs out a breath. “I’m pretty sure I can manage an Instacart order, Buck.”

“You can but you won’t,” Buck counters. “Pre-rut Eddie gets territorial when the mailman comes by, you’re definitely not gonna eat anything delivered by a stranger.”

Which is absolutely true, by the way. It’s honestly kind of adorable how worked up he gets: all grouchy and growly, stomping around with that little furrow between his brows.

“I can⁠—”

“Eddie,” Buck says, glancing over his shoulder and fixing him with his sternest look. Eddie’s nostrils flare, his spine straightening like he’s about to jump to his feet and stand at attention. “Come on, man, don’t be stubborn. Let me help you.”

He fastens his nametag to his chest, does one last spot check on his hair, and shuts his locker with a click.

“Maybe if you’re really nice to me, I’ll even swing by that place over on Lawrence with those egg rolls you love⁠—”

And anything else he’d been about to say is lost because when Buck turns around, it’s to find Eddie standing right behind him. Like, literally right behind him⁠—How the fuck did he sneak up on him?—a fierce glint in those warm brown eyes.

Before he can do anything other than blink stupidly at him, Eddie pushes him up against his own locker: a full body press, chest to hip to thigh. He nuzzles in close, rubbing a stubbled cheek all over Buck’s throat.

“E-Eddie?” Buck stammers, his voice cracking right down the middle. His skin is buzzing with static—like someone’s overloaded the circuit breaker for his heart, sending pulse after pulse of electricity through his veins. “What’re you doing?”

Eddie laughs, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and into Buck’s, oh god. “Take a wild guess.”

“Are you scent marking me?”

“Pre-rut Eddie gets territorial,” Eddie says, echoing his earlier words, curling a hand around Buck’s hip. “What makes you think you’re an exception to the rule?”

“Um.” Buck has no idea what’s going on right now. Unsure of what else to do with his hands, he ends up settling them gingerly on Eddie’s back. “I’m… not?”

“Exactly,” Eddie says, like they’ve come to some kind of agreement. He cranes up until he can tuck himself into the space under Buck’s jaw and inhales with a deep, contented sigh. “Why aren’t you wearing your blockers? I could smell you coming the moment you walked into the vehicle bay.”

“I am wearing blockers,” Buck tells him, trying hard not to do something utterly mortifying like whimper or beg or pass the fuck out. Every one of his instincts is screaming at him to bare his throat to the attention, his head swimming with yes, yes, good, please, alpha, yes. “And, uh, actually, did you know that an alpha’s olfactory senses can become up to eighty percent stronger in the three days leading up to their rut? It’s to help them stay in tune with the needs of their pack and mate throughout their cycle.”

“Yeah,” Eddie muses, and he reaches up and undoes the top two buttons on Buck’s shirt, pulling his collar open and nosing at the newly-exposed skin. Buck chokes back a whine by the skin of his teeth, his knees threatening to buckle out from underneath him. “That tracks.”

He nuzzles even closer, then says, “God knows I need every advantage I can get⁠—keeping you is a full-time job.”

Buck’s mouth is painfully dry.

“You mean, uh⁠—” When did it get so fucking hot? “You mean k-keeping up with me?”

He can feel the shape of Eddie’s smirk against his throat. “Sure, that too.”

#911 abc #buddie #buddie fic #the burning up variations #*editor's note #*the writing desk #bits & bobs #feat. alpha!Eddie and omega!Buck #did another round of edits on this so here it is again! im very excited for this one

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kay-great · 2 days ago

Text

Invincible Variant! X Reader

Invincible X Reader

Invincible Variant! OC X Reader

Okay so I’ve seen a LOT of different versions of reader & variant’s relationships- but what if reader WAS a variant themselves? Like Spider-Gwen, or Captain Britain vibes. So in reader’s dimension, Mark and reader were together, but then Mark died, and so reader took on the mantle of Invincible!!

But then Invincible war breaks out.. and Angstrom is careless in what all the variants want out of his deal.

Gore (nothing worse than the show),female reader, some dub-con groping, fondling, and kissing. Some variants believe in facist ideologies, there is also a mention of cutting an arm on purpose, but it is not related to suicide.

(reader x invincible), (reader x invincible variants), I guess also (reader x invincible variant oc)? It’s the one from your dimension- who you fall in love with first.

This was supposed to be an Imagine. :,D !! Somehow it turned into this!! Took me actual DAYS and NIGHTS to finish. Like OVER A WEEK cuz I’m SLOW and PICKY.

But it’s here now. I broke my back writing this so please enjoy!! (And please leave a comment? Please I love them so much okay thankssss)

—————————————————————————————————————

-When you first met Mark Grayson, he had knocked on your door and asked if you liked Seance Dog. You were 10 and he was 9, but he was more fun than the other neighborhood kids, so you allowed yourself to become friends with a 9-year-old (which, when you were 10, you thought was a BIG deal- it wasn’t)

You couldn’t hang out at school very much, because you were in different grades. But you would sit together at lunch, and during recess you would play ‘superhero’ and William would play ‘Damsel in Distress’ lmao

Despite neither of you having powers, you were both convinced that someday you would be the “bestest, most strongest super hero pair ever in the history of the world” -as recounted by Debbie

Around 14, you noticed that sometimes your hands would brush together, and you’d stop breathing for a moment. Or he’d laugh at a joke you made, and you’d think about the way his eyes crinkled for days on end. And you’d realized you had a tiny, itty bitty little crush on your best friend

You wondered for a while if it was one-sided, but one day while you were hanging out with both Mark and William, the pair kept acting suspiciously

“Sooooo y/n, have you ever had a boyfriend before? Are you into younger guys? Cuz I know a great pick on the Market”

William received a small jab to the ribs by Mark, nevertheless persisted-

“See what I did there? Mark-et?”

“Will!!” Mark gritted out sideways, desperately trying to hide the conversation from you (and failing). It was adorable really, he was such the dork.

“Ugh, You know I hate being called Will”

“It’s true Mark, I’ve heard him say that before” you chimed in, having caught on to William’s game.

“Well maybe I’ll call him what he deserves, especially if he doesn’t shut the hell up about private conversations, ya know?” The last few words were gritted through sandpaper and then stabbed at William.

-But it didn’t matter, you were 90% sure that this meant Mark had told William about feelings! For you! You finished your vague taunting of Mark with the biggest grin on your face- by the time he had successfully moved the conversation on, your cheeks were sore

-but before you could act on your newfound discovery, you started Highschool. And freshman year was really rough. Especially without Mark.

-at lunchtime it really hit you how alone you were. How had you invested so much of your friendship towards the neighborhood dork and his sassy friend? Damn! Sitting alone every fucking day sucks ass.

-afterschool is better. Sometimes, it’s hard to connect with Mark. Your lives feel so different now, since he’s still not in Highschool yet, but you both make the effort, and it feels like the only relationship in your life (other than your parents) where you feel genuine care and attention

-actually, you start doing homework together. This dimension’s Mark isn’t just a dork, he’s also a HUGE nerd, and so doing Highschool homework is light work for him. Specifically science!

-one afternoon while munching on sliced apples-which Mark’s mom prepared for you guys- you confide in him how lonely you feel during the school day, and how most of your friends in your classes don’t really care about you.

“I wish things could be like how they were when we were kids” Cruch. Juicy apple dribbles down your chin a little. “I mean, when we thought we were gonna be superheros? And we wore towels like capes- and we ran from driveway to driveway?”

-your fond smile entrances him. Damn, he has such a huge crush on you. Yeah, of course he remembers those days. It kills him that the year had been so hard for you. That he can’t be there for you during the day. Because he should be. He’s your best friend!! And maybe he wants to be more than that, but even if you never reciprocate those feelings, he will always be there for you!! If only there was something he could do… he asks,

“Didn’t we have superhero names? Wasn’t I like,, indestructible or something like that?”

Invincible. It was Invincible, it is invincible, it will be Invincible. But he’s gotta sound ~nonchalant~. He can’t be caught caring too much about kid stuff in front of his year-older hot best frien-

“You were [titlecard], dummy.”

Oh you were so perfect. You remembered! Of course you did! You’re such a dork! But in a cool way, the coolest dork, you continued-

“and I was ‘Unstoppable’. And our catch phrase was ‘an unstoppable force meets-“

“-an immovable object’.” He joined in. God, weren’t you both just perfect together? Such dorks!! He thought you were perfect, even if you didn’t invite him to the Sadie-Hawkins dance. Which you didn’t, by the way. He noticed. You probably thought he wouldn’t notice but he did.

-he understands; I mean, not only was he a year younger than you, he was also quite literally a grade-A nerd. But that’s okay- he’ll find a way to make sure you achieve your dreams of being the greatest superheros in the world! And then you’ll be partners for real, and he can make sure you never feel so alone..

-the science behind the idea was easy really. it was the equipment that was difficult to figure out. He couldn’t get his hands on a syringe, so he has to skip it, and slowly bleed out his arm manually- with a knife. Why? Because he was gonna make you into a superhero

-see; he knew his dad was Omni-man, and therefore one day he was gonna inherit his dad’s super incredible powers. From there, becoming a superhero would surely be a piece of cake! The difficulty was how to get YOU to be a superhero with him

-you didn’t have any powers, and he had met your dad many times- nice guy, definitely not harboring any secret super-human abilities. That meant you needed to “have greatness thrust upon you” (he would certainly like to thrust anything upon you)

-he figures that he can somehow take his own DNA, and create a mimicry that will attach to your system. Then, you’ll get his powers at the same time as him!

-it’s bloody, it’s messy, it hurts, there’s many failed attempts, but it’s all worth it for you!!

-he works on the perfect solution for years, and by then you’re a junior in Highschool and you’ve sort of moved on from the whole superhero dream. After all, now that William and Mark are in Highschool with you, your loneliness epidemic has seriously subsided. You don’t have as much need for fantasies anymore. Your reality is enough for you now. But it’s not enough for Mark. He doesn’t forget. And he slowly starts slipping you the concoction.

“Hey Mark! I saved you a seat. Did your mom make that punch again?” You scootch over on the long blue cafeteria table, making room for your friend to sit down.

“Yes yes, here’s your bottle. You know sometimes I wonder if the only reason you sit with me at lunch is for the punch,” He teases as he tosses the small red water bottle as you.

“You’re on to me,” you glint as you catch it with ease, latching down onto the well-chewed nib and sucking in- it was almost lewd if Mark allowed himself to think it. “I mean what does she put in this stuff? It’s too fucking good.”

His blood, He muses. Or at least a tiny amount of it, rearranged into a compound that is meant to seal his viltrimite genetics on top of your human ones. Very specific to you. Took him years to figure it out. Literal blood, metaphorical sweat, and literal tears. Oh and also Gatorade, Minute Maid lemonade, and mango juice- to mask the copper taste. Although apparently you liked it. And that thought rang through Mark’s brain late at night. That you liked the taste of him.

-And you liked it so much, you asked for it everyday. It hurt his soul a little to have to give the credit to his mom, even though he was the one making it. but you would know something was up if he told the truth. and besides, you’ll know the truth someday- and then he’ll finally get his praise. You’ll be soo grateful he did all that work for you. He was sure that you’d make the best superhero duo- and hopefully, finally maybe more.

“Oh god, you better not be talking about juice again. ” William butted in and sat down at the table, earning some chortles from the two of you. “Let’s talk about how I’m going to survive this geometry class instead.”

The world was perfect with just the three of you. It made sense. But it wouldn’t soon.

—-

-when Mark got his powers after his seventeenth birthday, you got yours at the same time. And then everything changed. You were going to go to college, but now you have powers? Like- pretty insanely fucking powerful powers?? Where the hell did this come from?? What the fuck triggered this? You hadn’t recently fallen into a nuclear vat of acid that you were aware of. What do you do? Who do you tell?

-you dont get the chance to answer your own questions, Mark is knocking at your WINDOW later that afternoon.

“Holy Shit! Mark! You’re fucking flying!!”

“Yes! Isn’t it great? Can you fly too? Fuck, did it work? Please tell me it worked”

“Did what work? And get in the room for the love of-! The whole neighborhood is going to see you!”

He has to come clean, and he does, he tells you everything.

“Eww, that punch had BLOOD in it? That’s disgusting Mark why wouldn’t you tell me that? I drank that shit for MONTHS”

“I know, I know. But I wasn’t sure it was gonna work and I didn’t want to get your hopes up.” Not completely a lie. “…and also… I didn’t want you to say no.” Ah, poor Mark Grayson, you were such a weakness for him.

“Shit Mark. That’s… that’s kinda fucked up.”

“I know, but- this way you get what you always wanted! Come on, don’t blame me for that”

“..Mark.. I mean, I guess I get it? Like yes, I mean- I know we used to dream about this stuff when we were kids.. and I can’t lie. I am pretty stoked about getting to fucking fly, and I never have to worry about a paper cut again but.. “ you chortle out your disbelief, and it only grows-

“but shit Mark!. why wouldn’t you just tell me? I would have drank the blood juice if I knew what it was!! You let me plan for college and everything for months! And now I don’t even know if I want to… I mean, you let me take the SAT AND the ACT!! Knowing damn well I was gonna be a superhero!! I made plans, good plans! Plans I was excited about! This changes everything Mark.. ..why the FUCK wouldn’t you let me decide if I wanted to do this??”

“I know I know, I’m sorry. I really am. And you can still do all that stuff if you want! College and everything, I mean. I just.. I just really wanted to give you this. I REALLY wanted our childhood dreams to come true because.. I know it’s selfish but, MY dream couldn’t be complete without you by my side. You’re the other half of my future, y/n. You always have been.”

-And at that you’re quiet for a little bit, except for the pounding of your heartbeat in your head. Then-

“What are you saying, Mark?”

-He breathes deep, then-

“I’m saying I’ve had a crush on you since we were thirteen. I mean I was thirteen and you were fourteen. But since then. And if you don’t feel the same that’s fine and we can just be friends but I wanted to let you know because I’ve been waiting to tell you for years and I never-“

-But his ramblings are smothered by desperate lips. And after just a brief, stiff moment, he melts into your touch. It’s his first kiss, you know? He’s awkward but adoring. And you realize you’ve been a fool for not begging for this earlier. It was cliché, but you liked that. And if the stiffness in his pants were any indication, Mark did too.

“Wait..” you pull away, “how did you know you would get powers? What’s so special about your DNA?”

“Oh, uh- my dad is OmniMan”

“Mark, wHA-“!!!

—

-so you start the superhero gig. Neither of you were great at first, but after a little experience with some low-level-criminals, and with coaching from fucking OmniMan- you start to get the hang of things.

-at first Mark’s dad seemed very hesitant about you. Sometimes you got the feeling he didn’t want you there at all, but eventually he got used to your presence, and accepted that you were a permanent fixture on the side of his son. This didn’t mean he was thrilled to have you, but a quiet- and almost remorseful- acceptance draped itself over his countenance.

-especially when you start getting better than Mark

-remember how this dimension’s Mark is a huge nerd? With the intelligence to mutate genetic code with nothing but a kitchen knife and a Highschool lab set at the ripe age of 13? Well all that awesomeness has to balance out somehow, and unfortunately it means that when it comes to the physical strength of his powers, Mark is simply not as capable as other versions of himself.

-he’s still an incredibly powerful superhero, but he doesn’t stand a chance against most high-ranking villains. And he especially doesn’t stand a chance against his dad.

-now you know why his dad didn’t want you around. The destruction wrought through the earth is cataclysmic, but your focus is only on your poor bloody and bruised Mark Grayson.

-He’s weaker than he’s meant to be. Still one of the most durable people on the planet, but not enough for the rage of his father. He’s hurting, badly. And you don’t think he will survive much longer. You can’t sit idly by and watch, when Cecil told you what was happening, you flew as fast as you could to lunge at the ex-hero!

-you’re stronger than Mark but you’re still untrained. Omniman catches you and does not hesitate to break your leg.

-you cry out, but the monster simply throws your body to the concrete ground of the skyscraper rooftop. You try to get up, but the pain is so much.

“Y/N! Get out of here!!” Mark cries out to you in bloody rasps.

“See how weak humans are? Even with some viltrimite DNA, she’s still not even half of what we are. What we are supposed to be. You think you care about her? You think you can save her? She’ll be dead in a matter of years. We are going to live millennia without her, son. You think you need her? Think you can’t live without her? You’re going to have to.”

-And with that Mark’s father puts his boot on your head- intent on crushing your skull.

-You cry out in throbbing pain, if it weren’t for Mark’s DNA bolstering your cranium, your brains would already be jelly.

But seeing you in pain pushed Mark to a breaking point. Weakness be damned, he won’t see you hurt.

“I won’t live without her, dad.”

So, bloody, broken, dying, and fucking pissed, Mark throws himself at his father, sending them flying off at a thousand miles per hour.

-your vision is hazy, you fall unconscious for a few minutes, but force yourself back. But it’s already too late. Omniman has killed his son some million miles away. Your best friend. Your partner. Maybe the love of your life.

-you search for hours, and eventually find his body laid out at the top of Mt. Everest. The snow catches the red leaking out of him. He’s been fucking flattened on the white rocky cliff side. Some bits of him jut out- bones, intestines, and bits of torn clothing. You can’t even hold him in your arms. You can’t even cradle him in your fucking arms- that’s how brutally OmniMan mauled him.

-at first your only response is rage. To find OmniMan and make him hurt. To lash out all your dumb fucking superpowers on someone. Someone to blame. But the coward was gone. Apparently killing his son convinced him to leave Earth. Good fucking riddance. But that meant that now you were left with no one to share these unfathomable powers with. You attend Mark’s funeral. It’s closed casket.

-he was too weak. He cared so much. Maybe about you. Maybe you made him weak. Could you blame yourself for this ? You could try. And with no Mark around to stop you, you quickly fell into an unfeeling abyss.

—

-For a while you take up the mantle. Not of OmniMan- fuck that guy. No. You take up the mantle of Invincible. You don his suit, and with his powers you quickly become the world’s number one superhero, and the leader of the guardians.

-much to Cecil’s joy (if he has any left), you are completely dedicated to the job. You stop living with your family, you haven’t seen them in ages. They didn’t know about the powers, or Mark, or anything, and why should they? Just to see their perfect little girl become a killing machine? To see her dreams of college slip away? You left without saying goodbye. That part of you is gone. You’re Invincible now, and that’s all.

-it’s slowly killing you. You don’t engage with the other guardians outside of trainings and missions. You hardly ever take off the suit. You’re not mean, but you’re cold. You get stronger everyday. You don’t really care.

-people start seeing you as a role model, though. They don’t know how fucked up you are. Kids wear your suit on Halloween, and your insignia is on balloons, and somehow you become the poster child of being a good person

-and it pisses you the fuck off

-because you weren’t a good person. You let Mark die. You should have saved him. He gave you literal fucking powers and you still couldn’t save him. He was the good person, he was supposed to be the face behind this mask. You were only supposed to be reminding people of him by wearing this suit. But now.. people had forgotten all about him. He didn’t even exist anymore. And you had.. you had taken his place. You had taken what was rightfully his.

-and something snapped. Since the world forgot about him. Since you couldn’t do anything right by him.

-you decided to remind people who you were Not

-sulfur, smoke, sirens, and chicken. That’s what it smelled like, you thought. Everywhere you went. Sulfur, smoke, sirens, and chicken. And it was red. Everywhere. Red. Until it was gray, and then black.

-you still wore the suit. Even though you hated how it now maimed the legacy of your best friend. What “invincible” had become. You couldn’t bring yourself to take it off. It was what he left you- the suit- the powers. And you had decided to take it all. To its fullest advantage. It was like- keeping him close, you know?

-And finally, when the world gets boring, Angstrom Levy steps into frame.

“I understand you have an attachment to a late Mark Grayson?”

“Don’t say his name”

“Ah- of course. Can’t say I really understand your fondness for the boy, but I can respect it. I’m willing to offer you-“

-His throat pulses rhythmically in your hand. You’ve caught him by surprise in less than a heartbeat. Whoever this fucker is, you decide you don’t care to hear the rest of his story

-You hoist him into the air, but suddenly the ground beneath you gives way. You fall through the dirt, and land.. in the air? What the hell? Ah shit.. portals? Seriously? You gotta fight a portal guy? Whatever, you haven’t had anything better to do for months now.

“As I was saying, I have a proposition for you-“

“Not interested” and you lunge at him again, but this time the portal appears right in front of him, and shoots you back out some 16 feet away. Fucking hell.

“I ADMIRE YOUR STRENGTH AND SKILLS!! IN RETURN FOR DESTROYING A PLANET, I WOULD GRANT YOU-“ he’s yelling so you can hear him from the 16 feet. Doesn’t he know you have super hearing? This guy is a real idiot. Once you get your bearings, you fly towards him again.

A portal appears, but this time you know to feint left. You come from behind and pin his hands behind his back, hoping to subdue his portal-making abilities. You wrap your free arm around his neck in a chokehold.

“I said I wasn’t interested” you languish in his ear. Your voice is sweet sweet poison.

“Yes, you’ll do nicely. Very strong.” But you’re bored again now. And as you crush his windpipe-

“Mark Grayson!!” He rasps out- “you’ll have Mark Grayson again!!”

-You let go, you ask questions, you demand proof, he complies, and eventually a bargain is struck.

-You’ll destroy another Earth, alongside other variants (you learn you are one of many variants), and then for your troubles you will get to take home one of the many, many, alive Mark Graysons. Any of your choosing.

“Do we ever get to be partners? Superhero partners? In any universe?”

“Well I’m not sure about heroes..”

“Do we get to be partners? In.. whatever the hell we do? Does he really survive his dad in so many universes?”

“He does.” Unfortunately- Langstrum thinks.

“Then if he’s alive in that alternate dimension, isn’t he happy there? Don’t we get to be happy together?”

“Oh y/n.. you really don’t understand, do you?”

“What”

“In all those other dimensions.. you’re the one who dies.”

..oh.

-You guess that makes sense.

How unfortunate you had to live in this one.

“So.. he will be happy to see me?”

“I’m absolutely certain.”

————

Today is the day. The day you go through all the horrors again, and then you’ll get to see your boy. It’s like, going back in time, you think. In order to get back to those good beginnings, you’ll have to rewind through the last few years of horrific devastation. A price to pay.

A portal appears before you, and with only a moment of hesitation, you step through.

The sun is bright, brighter than it’s been in a long time. The air is warm, and the breeze carries the sounds of life. You.. missed this, you guess. It was nice. Life could be like this again. It was going to be.

Phasing through their own portals, your heart hitches just a little as the other variants appear. In a circle above Mark’s old house, you study their faces. And in turn, notice them noticing you.

“Woahhh who brought the girl?” A variant with no mask laughs.

“Woah, im a chick in another universe? Shit, why couldn’t I have been born a chick in my own universe? Then I could touch my tits whenever I wanted.” A mohawked version roared. Well you knew who were weren’t taking home.

“Focus on the mission. We’ve all been given locations to destroy, there’s no need to delay with introductions” a white-clad figure spoke with certainty. You recognized the clothes as Viltrimite uniform. Disgusting, you thought. But not as disgusting as-

“I concur. Those who survive will have earned their introductions. We are wasting time” a variant in a suit very reminiscent of Omniman’s speaks.

“I can’t imagine a universe in which I would ever wear that emblem” you couldn’t help yourself, but how could a Mark Grayson allow himself to wear that Omni shit? How different had their lives been?

OmniMark seems taken aback, but only for a moment.

“You have no idea what brought me to this moment here today.” You felt his power burning into you, but you didn’t care, you could match it- hell, you’d been waiting to match it for years.

“You know what brought me here today? The need to put something in its place. You want that to be you?” You rise to meet him, you can feel the atoms vibrating around you with power- damn you wanna punch this fucker.

“Well well, kitty’s got claws~” Mohawk pipes up.

“Hey sweetheart! you could put me in my place~” No-Goggles rises to Mohawk’s game. Fucking imbeciles.

“Enough. The mission is clear, we’ve all agreed to its terms. You don’t want to look at each other? Fine. Go destroy opposite corners of the world, but first go.” The true viltrimite reprimands you both like children. But you’re too busy maintaining the fire between your eyes and the Omni-variant.

You can feel the gazes of all the variants. Your teammates in destroying the world. A part of you hates each and every one. Knowing that they’re all technically Mark, but all capable of so much more cruelty than yours ever was.

but a part of you also languishes in it. You’ve been missing Mark so much for so long, and now all of a sudden here you were- surrounded by him! So many different versions. You almost want to fling yourself into their arms, and promise your love. Forever and ever. To each one. Well, except one.

“I have no interest in delaying our mission any further by entertaining this petty display of anger. Either you uphold your end of the bargain or you don’t. Your decision will not influence me.” The arrogant, self-proud Omni-prick belittles you.

-‘your decision will not influence me’ my ass

-But just as you wind up to punch this fucker’s teeth out, your arm is stopped by a Mark with a mask like fabric covering his face-

“Not yet.”

A fully masked invincible put his hand on the shoulder of the Omni-variant, “we all have a reason for being here. We can’t lose this opportunity.”

he’s right. You shouldn’t waste your breath on this lesser Mark. You need to focus on why you’re really here.

The black and yellow variant adds, “we can kill each other later” with a smile that was too pleasant to be joking.

The final variant to engage wears two viltrimite emblems on either side of his shoulders. He breaks the tension with an air of refinement, unquestioned power, and a tad bit of condescension- “time to go, then. Meet back here when you’ve done as told.”

So they start off, ready to bleed all corners of the world. But you are reluctant to break eye contact with the Omni-scum. There is too much fire, and the rage of the past years fuels your contempt. Refuses to let you back down. But just as the fully masked variant pulls at the shoulder of Omni-dick and turns him away from you, the Mark with a mask of fabric pulls at your arm and- and it feels like Mark.

It really feels like Mark.

And you let him turn you from the rage. From the fire that had been burning inside you since he died.

The wind catches the fabric on his face. It toys with your imagination- billowing in ways which catch the variant’s features before obscuring them again. The dancing obfuscation allows you to pretend that this really is your Mark. His face is the one you’ve memorized.

You can’t see behind his goggles, but you can imagine his eyes recognizing you. The way the variant doesn’t move- you can tell he really is studying you. Letting you stare. Staring back. It’s not even longing, it’s.. understanding. That you had both lost your counterparts. That you were Invincible, simultaneously. And your heart swells at the recognition- finally not being so goddamn alone.

But then he flies off.

And you are realize you are alone in the sky.

You’re meant to be destroying Melbourne, Australia. But there’s enough Invincibles to get the job done. You’ve assigned yourself a different mission: pick a Mark Grayson to keep.

In order to do that, you need to study your options. This decision will last forever, you know? Don’t want to be too hasty.

Who should you follow?

You didn’t pay attention who went which direction, though you remember Angstrom announcing all the locations. Whoops, maybe you’re a little rusty. No matter. You decide to start by taking a little devastation down memory lane.

——

-The prison.

-What was the name of this prison again? It had been so long since it had been operational. You could still recall which cells belonged to which prisoners- and the way you won each of their battles- and- oh dammit not him.

-Mohawk was making quick work of the prison. You considered simply skipping him for the next destination, but alas, he had spotted you-

“Hey hey hey!! Guess you couldn’t stay away from the sexiest variant, could ya?”

“You’re about to be flattened” you reply coolly.

-and he was. A giant rhinoceros guy with a bigger-than-a-rhinoceros-hammer was charging at him. And he was too distracted to notice, just standing on the ground like a fucking idiot. Your Mark was always smarter about strategy than this. Why lose high-ground advantage when you can literally fly?

But just as the hammer fell down upon the imbecile, Mohawk shot out a hand to stop the thing- and it did. Stop, I mean. He stopped it with one fucking hand, while posing at you. The way a frat guy poses against a door. With the arm up? And the smarmy smile? Shit.. this guy was an asshole, but he was also a lot stronger than your Mark. Mental Note: don’t underestimate this guy.

“Enjoying the show?” His grin was so big it could reach Texas. He didn’t stop-

“I don’t get stage fright, go ahead and watch.” He teased, bulging out some muscles playfully. You couldn’t tell if he was honestly flirting or if he was making fun of you.

-The rhino raised his hammer again, preparing to squash the Mohawk properly this time. But this did not deter the asshole-

“Although if you helped out, we could ditch this place and get to know each other a little better~”

-you were unconsciously drifting closer and closer to the variant. He couldn’t see the rising blush under your mask, but you suspected that somehow he knew. Or, he was such a confident little prick that it didn’t matter. Which you didn’t doubt. You couldn’t help it, this Mark was arrogant, but he could certainly put his money where his mouth is.

“Actually, I am here to know you better” You reply. And for just a second you see his eyes light up with some almost psychotic excitement, before the hammer falls again.

-this time, he wasn’t prepared to stop it with his hand, but he maintains it with his shoulder swiftly. You study the dirt beneath his feet- the blow does not move him.

“Really? You know I’ve always had a kink for fucking a clone. Wanted to feel how good at sex I was from the other perspective!”

“I’m not a clon-“

-but he’s too busy punching the hammer 20 feet in the air, flying up to grab it by its handle, and slamming it down on the head of its previous owner. Blood, bones, and brain matter squelch out. A giant golden horn falls dejectedly beside it.

“Come on, don’t let me have all the fun. Let’s fuck up some more prisoners, and then we’ll fuck each other.”

-there is something you like about this invincible. He is.. so different from your Mark. But he’s the kind of bad-boy that appeals to your fucked-up side. He’s fun, and fucking powerful. Maybe this is what you need. Maybe you can’t replace the kind-hearted nerd you lost years ago, but you can gain a sexy arrogant rebel prick that resembles him.

Or maybe, you could find something better.

“I can’t stay, I’ve got a mission to finish.”

“Aww what? Can’t play hooky for a little longer?”

“Survive. maybe I’ll see you again.”

And you were off to the next location.

——

The Colorado Camp Grounds.

When you were kids, you would go to camp with Mark in Colorado every summer. It was a huge trek to get there, but your mom was adamant that you had to go to this camp because it was tradition because this was the camp she went to when she was a kid. And she always let you bring Mark because you didn’t have any siblings, and she thought it would help you ‘be normal.’

It did not.

William always threw a fit cuz we wasn’t invited. You had to explain to him every year that it was your mom’s fault cuz she only let you bring one friend.

How simple things had been.

When you got there, you realized it was empty- of course- it wasn’t summer. But as you wandered around, you could still see the crowds of children. The smell of sunscreen. The sound of the forest and tennis shoes on dirt. Also, the wind suddenly whizzing behind you-

“I came here too, when I was a kid.”

You turn around to find the bumblebee-variant. Although with the power and violence radiating off him, he seemed more like a hornet now. Something about his presence rattled you. A Sinister gleam threatening his eyes. You rise to him, a few feet off the ground,

“What are you doing here?”

“Came to destroy the place.” He tilts his head, wondering how you’ll respond. It’s a challenge to defy him- to admit you’re too weak to let go of these memories.

“Sure. But we came to destroy everywhere. Why here?”

He smiles at you, one of those smiles that makes it clear he thinks you’re stupid.

“Why not here? It’s our mission to destroy everything, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but-“

“Honestly I was really hoping for some campers so I could-“

“Answer the question”

“Are you gonna stand in my way?”

At this you bristle. You’re not trying to battle anybody, you’re trying to get to know them- but you can’t afford to be caught off guard. You have to be ready for a fight. As you saw with Mohawk, these guys are a lot tougher than you expected.

“No.”

“That’s too bad, I almost thought you had some conviction.”

Okay, fuck this guy.

“I’ve already destroyed this place once.” You say flatly. It’s true. You did. And you did it technically for the man in front of you.

And he looks at you, and reaches toward your face. You don’t know why, but you let him. He caresses your cheek so delicately, until suddenly-

your neck is craned forward as he painfully cups your jaw- squishing your cheeks carelessly cruel with his fingers. He brings your face right up to his, centimeters away- and whispers,

“So did I.”

Kinda hot, kinda scary. But Fuck this, you were powerful too.

So you mirrored him. To remind him you were invincible too. You had earned that fucking title. And you were just as fucked up as him.

As you palmed his jaw with your hand, and pinched his cheeks with your thumb and fingers so tight you almost broke skin- you realized you couldn’t crane his neck forward without slamming his face into yours.

But you were never a quitter.

So, locked in a painful face-embrace, you yanked him into a kiss. Because fuck this guy, that’s why. And because you had travelled through dimensions to kiss Mark Grayson again, so you were gonna fucking do that.

Even if it was a fucked up version.

And just as his free hand comes to cradle the back of your head, and the moment almost turns sweet- he bites your fucking lip. copper flavor. Motherfucker.

So you catch his lip in your teeth, and then push him away. Hard. Really hard. Shoved him careening into a big-ass tree a few feet away. The one with the tire swing. Fucking Ripped the skin from his lip.

Because you could be cruel, too. And for some reason you really wanted to prove that to this Mark. So for good measure-

“I got my first kiss here, you know” You breathe it out, seductively. “When I was in 4th grade. We all played Spin the Bottle. Cliché huh?”

Mark had taken a moment to recover from the slam, probably because of the kiss. But now that he was looking at you again- your blood mingling with his as it dribbled down his chin- you were starting to lose confidence. His eyes trained on you-

“You taste like her.”

Um, ew. Did this guy eat people? From his unnerving presence you wouldn’t put it past him. But you had something to prove,

“When the bottle landed on me, I saw it was Toby Fichte who had spun it.”

“I remember this.”

“Lucky me, Toby was the cutest boy at camp.”

“You’re not-“

“He was a much better kisser than you.”

“You’re not me.”

“I’m better than you.”

A dangerous smile grew on his bloody teeth “Careful.”

You should be careful. You were playing with fire. You realized you shouldn’t be giving hints that you weren’t Mark Grayson. You need a distraction,

“You destroyed this place in your dimension?”

He looks at you, an emotion you can’t place hiding in the recesses of his face. “I did.”

“What did you start with?”

“Cabin 4.”

You smiled. “Why?”

He smiled back, eyes knowing- and never leaving yours- “Because that’s where she kissed him.”

You paused, as his eyes bore into yours. Breath heaving- and you knew it wasn’t from the shove. He was crazed, for something. For you? He’s gotten up now and slowly floats toward you. The way a big cat stalks up to its prey. You need to act fast,

“Save it for last, this time.”

One last threatening glint in his eye, and he zipped off to destroy the campgrounds, as hastily as he could, so he could take his time with Cabin 4. The sounds of wood crunching and splintering resounded all around you. Cabins, trees, hammocks. Good. You couldn’t stand the memories.

You zipped off too, to continue your mission.

——

Guardians HQ

You never were invited into Guardians HQ before Omni-man decimated the world. Still in training, you didn’t rank high enough to be on the team.

But after he destroyed the planet- as well as the guardians- you practically lived there.

Once you became Cecil’s favorite hero, you couldn’t stop imaging how Mark would’ve looked in that hall- living his dream, surrounded by his teammates- his birthright.

So looking at it now, it was almost a vision come true.

Invincible was standing proudly in the middle of the hall, surrounded by the guardians. Although of course it was- bloodier than you envisioned it.

No-goggles stood proudly covered in blood, while the guardians around him lay dead- torn around the room.

“Aww, I really shouldn’t have killed you all so fast. I was looking forward to torturing you.”

But your focus was on Dark Wing- always sneaking around the edges, that one.

“You haven’t killed all of us yet” Dark Wing seethes, and you realize his plan as he lunges for the unsuspecting variant.

His cape pulls taut as you grab the back of it, and as it digs into his neck from the tension, you throw him backwards into the wall he just jumped from- killing him instantly.

“Heyyyy” No-Goggles whines, “He was mine to finish off.”

“He would have been the death of you. You’re welcome.” Your tone is flat but accusing. You try to keep it even but realize your emotion at almost seeing another Mark Grayson killed.

“You don’t think I could have ended that guy? I was just toying with him.”

“I know that. But so did he.”

No-goggles gives you a questioning look, pursing his lips and raising an eyebrow- just like your Mark used to do when thinking. You loved seeing his eyes. So expressive. Although there was also a glimmer of cruelty, of darkness which-

“You’re saying he would have trapped me in his- ah, dark dimension, or whatever.”

What an idiot.

A handsome idiot.

“Yes.”

“Yeah, I would have found a way out of there.” He crosses his arms with a smug look on his face. Were all the variants this arrogant? You guess anyone who agrees to destroy the earth twice probably has some issues you’ll have to look past.

“Were you planning on killing Dark Wing?” You ask.

“Obvvvvvviosuly.” He says, drawling for effect. He was having fun with this.

“Then you would have stranded yourself as soon as you killed him.”

He breathed in for some retort, but he was left speechless. You continued-

“You should be more careful about these kinds of inter-dimensional powers. You might be strong, but that’s useless if left without anything to punch.”

You advise him. The way you used to when you were still in-training with your Mark.

“Hmm.. noted.” And something shifted- although you weren’t sure what. But he didn’t seem to notice-

He smiled. “Got anymore tips? You can use me as a practice dummy.”

Um what.

“How fitting- you being a dummy.” You retorted, trying to revert the conversation less.. masochistic.

“Aww come on. These guys didn’t put up nearly enough of a fight. I didn’t come all the way to another dimension for a few scratches. I’ll let you get in 5 hits for free.”

“Are you.. challenging me to fight?” You honestly weren’t sure.

“We can fight if you want.”

What the hell was up with this guy?

“Uh- no. That’s not what I’m proposing-“

“Aww you’re so adorable. But you’re kind of a wimp.”

Rage, again. Bubbling up inside of you- “You better fucking-“

“Haha woah! You’re really easy to rile up!”

“You- ugh, you’re just looking for a fight, huh?”

“I’d take one, sure. Especially against someone so strategic, makes it more like a game, ya know?”

“Because you- you get some perverted pleasure from pain.”

“You’d like it too” a wicked grin finds its way on his otherwise cavalier expression, “I’m sure you would- no version of me wouldn’t.”

Hah! What a laugh. You can’t help but think of your Mark asking for some kinky pain-shit. HAH! This idiot- a giggle escapes you as you tease,

“Listen, pervert!” A big grin clapped on your face, “MY Mark was way too sweet to have ever asked me for-“

“Your Mark?”

Ah shit. You’re saying too much again.

“Oh, you’re not-“

“Im Invincible. End of story.”

“Hmm~” something darker lights up his eyes as he rakes them up and down your body. But the smile never leaves his face, “prettiest Invincible I ever saw- and you should know I think pretty highly of myself.”

What a little shit.

“You know who you kind of remind me of?” He sing-songs with putrid delight. “My old girlfriend named y/-“

He hurls through the air as you deck him square in the nose. When he CRACKS with the wall on the opposite side, red starts to dribble from his nose.

But he pops back up like a fuckin daisy-

“Again! Again! Shit y/n, you were never like this before!”

“Shut up!” You seethe, and fly at him to crack your knuckles on his cheek- right where the jaw meets the ear. CRACK!

You don’t know why him knowing who you are affects you the way it does. Maybe it’s because that version of you is dead. Or maybe you’re just not really ready to come to terms with the reality of your life. Your name- it makes it all too real. You’re not ready. Not yet.

From a few feet away, crawling out of a the newly-formed crevice on the wall to your left-

“Haheh- what a- what a woman.” He’s stumbling towards you, ready for more. “What’s that, 2? I promised 10 free hits? Shit baby.. keep em coming.”

“5. You promised 5 free hits.”

“I’ll give you 5 more” so much blood in his teeth.

“I’d kill you before we made it to 10.”

“Promise you’ll finish ‘em all even after I’m dead? All 10? Pretty please?” Lovesick and deranged, he’s still wobbling towards you.

“You- you want me to kill you?” Incredulous and a bit alarmed; you can’t help but take a step back. His eyes flick to your retreated foot-

Wrong move.

“Don’t fucking pretend you don’t want this. I’m sure- I’m sure this is what you came for? Right y/n darling? You came to this shitty planet looking for me. Well I’m here. And im ready to take whatever you can give. All you can give. And I promise to cherish it. Like I should have cherished it before you.. before you left.”

Died. Before you died. Shit, you were not prepared for this. You need time. You need to get out of here- but this invincible- this Mark won’t let you leave easily.

You weren’t prepared for Mark to want you more than you wanted him. Although you guess it made sense. Your Mark had been pretty.. doting with you as well. You hadn’t considered what he might have become if you had been the one to die instead.

But No-Goggles leaves you no time to think- he lunges at you! Wrapping you in a bear hug which pins your arms to your sides. He lets the momentum throw you both into the wall behind you, and your legs part to accompany his body.

His lips find yours as you struggle against the compromising position. But as you struggle, you notice the friction turning him on. As you kick, jab, and bite him- well, the same result.

Through breaths, he sings in your ear- a cruel taunt-

“I know who you are~”

Your blood runs cold. You shouldn’t have told him. You should have been more careful. He choruses-

“And I’m never letting you escape again~”

And you almost wanted him to make good on his promise. To be his again. Forever.

But you had to get out. You needed time to think and he was refusing you that. So, you decided to give him what he wanted.

You grind on him a little to distract him (and because it was delicious). As he moaned, you wriggled your arm out of his grip, winded up your elbow, and smacked him off your face. Hard.

He went down unconscious. You couldn’t help but gingerly check for a pulse- He was alive. And would be awake again soon. That means you only have a few hours before he would be after you again. You wanted time, but it didn’t seem you were going to get any.

You need to move on to the next target.

——

You needed to get away from these memories for a while. It was making you irrational. You had to remind yourself that none of these guys were your Mark.

But you couldn’t help it. You missed him so much. And they all were Mark. Even if not quite the right one.

But who cares? Maybe you weren’t the same person that loved that dorky nerd. Maybe you had grown into something darker.. shit, what if that dorky Mark wouldn’t even recognize you now? Would he hate you? He was so good and you’d done such awful things..

Shit. Now was not the time to have a mental break. You’d kept strong for all these years- you could NOT have a crisis in the middle of this. Not here. This was your chance at being happy again.

You needed space.

So you started flying up.

Like a rocket. Not stopping when you hit the stratosphere. Burning up a little but not caring.

Until you’re in the stars. And it’s quiet. And it’s calm.

And it’s beautiful.

Sometimes you thought about leaving Earth. If Angstrom hadn’t arrived, you might have. You might have gotten bored with the planet. Left the few survivors to rebuild or die. Maybe allowed yourself to be happy again on some distant planet. The way Omni-man did when he came to your planet. Just, reinvented himself- fucking lied to everyone- and had a good time. Until he didn’t.

Man fuck that guy.

There are grunting noises around you. In space. Is there no peace anywhere?

Turning around, you gotta scan every angle before you spot some figures in the distance.

If you were miles above Washington, then they were miles above Oregon. What a wonder super-vision and a clear horizon will do, huh?

You really couldn’t make out who it was. But considering the circumstances, it was probably a variant, and you should probably go talk to them. For the mission. Your mission.

Remember what you’re doing here.

You try to perk yourself up. Maybe this Mark will be the one. The perfect fit. Your forever fix.

But as you speed towards them, you start to make out the red and white blur. You’ve got to be fucking shitting me right now.

He’s fighting some- space crab thing. His suit is torn, and his breath is panting, so apparently it’s pretty strong. Or maybe he’s just a fucking coward like his dear old dad.

You could leave him for dead, but you decide there is a more enjoyable option.

You shoot yourself at Space Crab, flinging yourself through frictionless space as you gain more and more momentum. Pushing your knuckles out in front of you like fucking Superman, you collide with the chest of the crab-in-space at a supersonic pace.

Your body slices through the incredibly-thick shell of the crab, but at the expense of your knuckles. Fuck you were NOT expecting the fucking space crab to be so fucking durable.

Your knuckles were bleeding. And at least 4 fingers had been disjointed by the collision. It hurt like hell, but you’d heal within a few minutes. What you were really concerned about was the variant behind you seeing your injury.

You did not want to be seen as weak. Not to anyone, but especially not to him. So you continue flying. You had slowed considerably after going through the crab, but you didn’t completely stop! So you just pick the pace back up and zip the fuck out of there, at the speed of light.

Problem solved.

Now you’re somewhere over the Antarctic. Fine, no one should be here. You can take a fucking breather alone and no one can-

“You’re ignoring your mission.” Came a voice from behind you.

Fuckkkkkkk. Whipping your head around, it’s none other than Omni-Mark.

“You followed me?” You accuse him.

“You couldn’t tell? You should be more aware than that.”

This fucking-

“Must have been the vacuum of space” You retort.

You stop flying and turn towards him, hoping to catch him off guard, but he’s relentless-

“You’re ignoring your mission.”

“I have my own mission.”

At this he raises a brow, “with Angstrom?”

You remember to hide your knuckles behind your back. You sneer back- “No. not with Angstrom.”

At this he crosses his arms. If he could get more stiff; you’re sure he would. But alas, he can’t. He’s already. Too. Stiff. Poor guy. Must be the stick up his ass.

“I cannot allow you to disregard your mission.” He dictates, looking down at you.

“Didn’t I just help you? Can’t you just say ‘thanks for saving my ass against a giant space crab’ and let me go? It’s the least you could do.”

“The least I could do?” He challenges.

“Yes.” Fuck. youuu.

“My OmniMan emblem- that’s the source of this insolence?” He chides like a father to a child- and that ticks you off sooo much. But before you can act on it-

“Fine. If you must know, I killed my father because I knew I could do the job better than him. I realized he was being insincere in his position as a guardian, and so I trained to take up his mantle. When he instructed me to help him prepare Earth for the empire, I refused. And instead I killed him. But that didn’t stop the empire from coming.

“There was 20 of them, not all of them as strong as me, but strong enough to overpower me. I fought against them for a long time, but eventually they found my weaknesses. I submitted to their rule to save what I could of Earth. I knew Earth would be better off if I was its designated Viltrimite ruler. I could be as merciful as they’d let me.

“They promised to leave me as ruler, so long as I completed their test. They brought my mother and my wife- my weaknesses. They told me to kill one, but I refused to pick. They tossed a coin. I was instructed to kill her. To kill my wife. To prove my allegiance. To prove my strength. She begged me to do it, for the good of humanity. She smiled at me as I crushed her windpipe.”

you couldn’t help but feel that his wife- his weakness- was you. Your hand flew to your mouth to cover a gasp.

“Your knuckle has been injured.”

“Yes.” Was all you could say, but your eyes searched his for more- for understanding.

“I’m only telling you this because I have struck a deal with Angstrom. When we complete our mission, he will give me my wife back. If you do not fulfill your end of the bargain, my contract could be null. So you understand-“

He got right in your face. Backing up would show cowardice so you remain where you are- centimeters from him. He hooks his finger under your chin, forcing your eyes to his. He commands-

“You will complete your mission, now.”

Chills ran up your body. But you couldn’t show your reaction to him. Wouldn’t.

“He’s lying, you know.” You challenge. And you know this to be true- since his wife is you. And you certainly didn’t agree to go with this guy. He was probably your least-likely pick. Or at least he was. Maybe he was growing on you. Or maybe you were never this guy’s wife to begin with.

“Maybe.” He replies. “But I’ve taken on the risk.”

“Your wife- what was her name?”

He hesitates- the first crack in his cold demeanor. He really wasn’t lying about his devotion.

“Y/n.” He breathes. And you can tell it’s difficult for him. But it’s difficult for you too. It’s been so long since you’ve heard the name from his lips with such- sincerity. Tenderness.

Maybe you had judged too harshly at first. Maybe this could be your Mark.

“my hands still hurt form when I punched that crab for you.”

“I know.”

“Aren’t you going to thank me for my help?”

He backs away, leaving you open to the cold of space again. It’s nothing you can’t handle, but you had been enjoying the warmth.

“I had the situation under control. I knew the Crab’s hard exterior was the fool’s route to victory. You wasted your energy and weakened your best weapons in the process.”

Okay damn. Maybe not.

“Go to Melbourne. Or there will be consequences.”

And he was gone. And you were left in the emptiness of space.

—-

But you didn’t go to Melbourne.

Instead, you went to finish another job you had delayed: destroying the Guardians in their entirety.

The Teen Team HQ

Oh, you remembered Teen Teem. For those short months while you and Mark trained, you would show up at battles you saw on the news- and accidentally screw over those teenage heroes.

Mark was certain that by demonstrating your guys’ skills in front of the team, that they would certainly ask you to join. This didn’t happen though. You both were too inexperienced to do anything other than make things more difficult for the budding heroes.

But this didn’t stop Mark! He was certain getting on the team was the first stepping stone to achieving your dreams of becoming the world’s Number 1 Crime Fighting Duo.

You were never invited to the facility, but you snuck in once. Mark convinced you to follow Dupli-Kate after a battle at Hillview Park. She led you right to the top-secret base.

“Bet you I’ll make it in first!” He had whispered.

“You’re on, Grayson.” You challenged.

“Invincible!” He chided, “Call me [titlecard]!”

Of course, neither of you got in. As soon as you two tried to surpass the threshold, alarms blared, and Cecil appeared to give you a very stern talking to.

You giggle at the memory. You can’t help but feel a little giddy that those happy times were possible again- soon.

And, of course; you’re excited to see the inside of the facility this time.

But, it seemed Mark really had beat you to it.

“You’re all weaker than I expected. I was hoping for a challenge.” A variant with prominent Goggles hovered in the middle of the room.

“You- little asshole.” Hey! You recognized Rex-Splode! He was the explosions guy. Aww, he used to be one of your role models. Until you killed him, of course.

“You think you can sacrifice yourself to save your friends? You realize after I kill you, I’m just going to find them too.” Goggles taunts him.

You realize the decimated room was rather lacking in teens. So he had sent the rest of his team away, huh? How noble.

“Well maybe I just wanted it to be you and me, asshole.” Rex struggles to continue standing.

“Aww how nice. Too bad she’s here then-“ and Goggle points right at you, where you were watching from outside the broken doorway. Your stomach drops- not having expected the attention. But you recover and step through the threshold, standing at full potential.

“Ah damnit. I’ve got to fight two of you assholes?”

He uses that word a lot, you muse.

“No.” You state, “I’m only here to watch.”

“Shouldn’t you be completing your own mission?” Goggles was rather curt with you. If he had any connection with y/n, he certainly didn’t recognize her as you. Good.

“I’m here to watch.” You state again, more biting this time.

“Ah shit, is this some kind of fucked-up clone relationship thing? Whaddaya call that? Self -love?” Rex heaves out his joke, and winces at the pain it causes in his lungs.

“I don’t need a babysitter. Finish your fucking mission or we’re gonna have a problem.” Goggles seethes at you. This prick.

“Hmm, maybe more like self-hate.” Rex adds.

“No.” You repeat. You don’t know why you’re being so stubborn. But dammit today has not been easy and you are not the kind of person to be bossed around. At all. “I’m here to watch.”

“I’m not going to say it again. Fuck off to Australia!” The variant roars at you.

“Make me.”

And as soon as you say it, you’re in the air, being bulldozed backwards through walls and then pushed through night sky. The not-so-secret facility grows smaller in the distance. The variant has pinned your arms to your sides, and is pushing you backwards towards- what you can only assume is - Australia.

“What the hell are you doing?” You yell. You have to- you’re going so fast that the wind whizzing in your ears blocks out sound even for the super-of-hearing.

“I’m making sure you fulfill your end of the bargain.” He roars back.

“Why do you give so much of a fuck if I’m following the mission?”

He just glares at you in response. Your inner ear hurts from the disorientation. Shit, this guy was fast.

But you were strong. So somewhere over the Pacific, you wind up your knees to your chest, and kick him hard. As you break free from his hold, you hover in front of him.

He goes to lunge at you again, but you put your hands up in defense-

“Alright! I’ll go to Australia. Just tell me one thing-“

“You swear?”

“I swear” You try to to placate him.

He crosses his arms, and pouts a little. “What?”

“What was your deal? With Angstrom?”

He narrows his eyes at you, suspicious. “Why do you want to know?”

“That’s why you want me to go to Australia so bad, right? Because if I don’t, I could nullify the deal, or whatever.” You watch him closely, looking for any confirmation, And you won’t get what you want?”

A clenching of his fingertips confirmed that you were right- you recognized it as one of Mark’s tells.

He deflects, “Why are you asking this?”

“What’s in it for you? What do you get in the bargain?” You demanded. A sneaking suspicion writhed itself in your gut, which you were afraid to confirm. But you had to.

He sighs-

“did you have a y/n in your universe?”

Shit.

He continues, “well I did in mine. And I want her back. Happy?”

Happy? Maybe? Overjoyed? Terrified? And royally pissed at Angstrom?

“I’ll be happy when this is over.” Is all you manage to say. Then, quieter, “I’ll complete my mission now.”

He pauses, looking at you strangely, like he’s working out a puzzle.

But you don’t give him time to solve it. “I’m going now.” And as you start to fly away- “oh! And Mark?”

You look back at him, and his breath hitches. You smile a little- that signature little smile of yours~

“Thanks for telling me.”

And with that you zoom off.

—

Melbourne is in ruins.

Fires rage, rubble is all that remains of any form of civilization, and even the screams have already begun dying out.

Someone has completed your mission for you.

“Where have you been?”

You turn in the air to see the monochrome figure of the Viltrimite variant hovering a few feet away from you- you really needed to stop letting these guys sneak up on you. Especially these Viltrimite types.

“You didn’t need to do this.” You keep your tone even- “I had it under control, and even if I hadn’t I would not have accepted your help” You spat.

You didn’t like Viltrimites. You hadn’t had much experience with them; the only real Viltrimites you had ever interacted with were OmniMan and Anissa. After the coward OmniMan killed the love of your life, you never saw him again. When Anissa came, she was too late to conquer the planet; you had already destroyed it.

So to see this variant of your beloved Mark sporting the insignia which was responsible for his death? Absolutely Abhorrent.

The entire mindset of the Viltrimites is fucked up. It’s pretty cultish if you think about it. I mean what kind of a dumbass motherfucker do you have to be to buy into-

“I know who you are.”

Shit!

How the fuck does he know? Is he talking about what you think he’s talking about? You hadn’t even talked to the guy how could he have- what do you do? Why’s he staring at you like that?

“What?” Is all you manage to choke out.

“I know who you are. You’re my y/n.”

My y/n?

Shit, how many of these variants did Angstrom promise you to?? It couldn’t be.. all of them; could it?

“I did this for you.” He speaks.

And he gestures around himself, slowly, gracefully. His eyes never leaving yours.

You look around. The devastation. The mission.

“Why?” You ask.

“I was waiting for you. You should have been here sooner, but were obviously delayed. I decided the completion of your mission would be the optimal use of my time. Consider it a.. gesture of my unwavering affection.”

You swallow. Hard. Something about the hungry look in his eye unnerves you. Like his composure is all a facade he is barely restraining. But there is also something.. pleading in his gaze.

“Your.. affection?” You question, dumbly- you know the answer. You fear it nonetheless.

“For you.”

Fuck. You did not want the Viltrimite version of your dead boyfriend to be your forever beaux. But the utter longing in his eyes assure you he won’t be easy to get rid of- not by a long shot.

Still, you try-

“I’m not interested. I have no fondness for Viltrimites” you sneer at him. You try to.

“You enjoy the splendors of our powers but lack the conviction of our culture…” he pauses for a moment, in thought. Then, “You’re a hypocrite. But it’s a malady I’m prepared to attend to.” He is all caressing authority and cold devotion.

“Attend to it somewhere else- I’m not fucking interested” you sneer at him.

“You will be happy with me.” He is inching closer to you, arms extended.

“I won’t.” You defy, slowly backing up.

“You will! I know you will.”

“I won’t!” You cry out, but he has been smart. Hovering slightly above you has been backing you up closer and closer to the ground. Damn, if your Mark could see you now- he’d certainly critique you for losing your high-ground advantage.

“But you will. I know you will.” You’re getting very close to the ground now.

“You can’t know that!” You throw back at him.

“I do. Because she was happy too!”

Shit. His version of you. Was she happy with him? It didn’t matter. You couldn’t be.

“I’m not her!” Your voice is more pleading than you intended- you shouldn’t be allowing him to dominate the space between you, but you couldn’t help it. The day had been so taxing on your emotions.

“You are her. Your voice is hers, your breath is hers, your eyes are hers, your face-” And he’s reaching for your mask.

you try to back away out of his range- but you hit ground where you wish there was escape. His fingers slip under the fabric, and before you know it, you are bare-faced for the world.

The wind is cool on your fresh skin; the fires are warm.

“Your face is hers” he confirms, breathlessly. Lovingly. Relieved.

You look up at him. You can see his eyes, his lips, his nose, his cheeks. You can see Mark Grayson.

“I haven’t taken my mask off in years” you confess.

He smiles, still gripping your mask in one hand.

“You won’t have to put it on ever again” he coos.

“That sounds.. nice” tears form in your eyes, “but also- awful.”

“Aww, darling~” and he comes to sit next to you in the sand; he cradles your head with two strong arms, and babies you the way someone might console a lost kitten, “you’re not going to be anyone else now except for y/n. My y/n.”

“No- no you don’t understand,” but your protestations are weak, “I’m not her anymore. I’m- I’m Invincible now. It’s what I have to do for- for you. I mean, not you, but for Mark. My Mark-“

He coos at you as you say those words- ‘My Mark.’

Oh, your Mark. The ultimate betrayal. Here you were in the arms of a Viltrimite version of him, taking off the suit which linked you to him, and abusing the powers you have thanks to him.

And it makes you want to cry.

You do a little. Allow yourself this small concession after being strong for so long. And Mark is there to hold you together. Oh God, he’s here.

Except he’s not very comforting.

He’s certainly trying, but he’s not very good at it.

He’s stiff. He’s eager- too eager. His embrace is too forged. It’s cage-like and cold. It presses in too hard, and in the wrong places.

You rub your eyes. You need to get a hold of yourself- you try to take back control of the conversation-

“How did you know it was me?”

“It was obvious as soon as I saw you” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, but it falls again anyway. He continues, “Viltrimites are able to identify one another from distant ranges by memorizing the heartbeat pattern of the individual. Yours is.. the same- exactly the same as it was before.”

Shit. This guy was hardcore.

“How did she die?”

He hesitates. Doesn’t move at all. He stares at you, though. Never blinking. Finally,

“Old age.”

Old age? How the hell could she have died of old age? Unless-

“How- how could she have- how old are you?” You breathe out as the realization hits you.

He stands. He looks down on you, his body casting a shadow on your form- sheilding you from the firelight of a dying city.

“132.”

Oh hell no.

There was no way you were spending the rest of your life with this old ass man. 132?? He had plenty of time to enjoy you- other you. You did not need this shit-

“She was very happy on Viltrum” he reasons with you as your legs find strength to stand up. He continues-

“She lived a long and prosperous life. She provided me with several legacies-“

Legacies??

“Listen,” you interrupt his rambling. “I think I need to go now.”

“You don’t understand what it’s like!” His desperation blazes to anger, “to have a longer lifespan than your mate. To have to watch her wither away!

“I loved her- formed an attachment where I was not juristicted to do so. I forged a life for her on Viltrum. Despite her inferior birth! And then I had to watch the consequences of my attachment! She died in my arms! Weak and suffering! And I am meant to- what? Continue living? For how long?”

He weakens, grabs ahold of your arms- tender finally, “Y/n, I cannot endure these years ahead without you.”

You melted a little. Because you understood. The heartbreak endured by the loss of half of this duo. The lengths you both would go to in order to retrieve the missing piece.

But, you couldn’t choose him. At least- at least not right now.

So you started shaking him off you- for the fifth time today you needed space. Time. A moment to think.

But he wouldn’t let you have that.

“No.” His hold tightens as you squirm against him, “no, I won’t let you leave me again.”

“You don’t have a choice” you shove your arms open- breaking his hold on you.

“My mission is done! Your mission is done! We’re leaving. Now.” His patience is growing thin, you can tell.

“I’m not going with you!”

“You leave me no choice.”

The wind shifts, and you struggle to breathe! A muscled arm presses down on your windpipe. You feel the expanse of a warm, strong body behind you- pressing into you. Somehow, with a swiftness your earth had never seen, he had gotten behind you. His arm help your throat in a chokehold, and another arm tied around your waist, pinning your arms, and promising to never let go.

“Let it happen, dear” he coos in your ear. “When you wake up, we will be home again” your vision was starting to black out, “and we will live to see stars burn out” your struggling was growing weaker, “and we will be together until we die.”

No no no no this can’t happen! You’re supposed to find your Mark! You made a deal. You had a mission. But the world was getting dizzy~ and you could feel yourself weakening~

A thunder crack and you could breathe again. Inhaling a gasp, you see your Viltrimite abducter on the ground.. pinned down by..

The variant with the full mask.

As oxygen rushed back into your brain, you made sense of what happened: the hooded Invincible had thrown himself into his Viltrimite counterpart- to save you.

Still atop the monochrome menace, he turned his face to you-

You were clutching the ground, still heaving in air. You wanted to thank him, but the Viltrimite recovered too quickly. Taking advantage of Masked Mark’s attention on you, the Viltrimite landed a hard punch on the fabric-covered face.

But Mark was always quick to recover. A punch there, a kick there. Pinning each other mercilessly to the ground. Until finally your masked crusader had the advantage again- for how long though, you weren’t sure. The two were so evenly matched.

But while pushing Viltrimite-face into the dirt, Invinsible looked back at you, again. His gaze was so powerful, despite his eyes being veiled.

You wondered how he would look underneath it all. Would he be the same?

But his gaze was pointed now- he’s telling you to go, you realize.

Oh Mark, you always jumped at the chance to save me.

You want to help, but the white-clad figure is up again, breaking Mark’s attention on you. You know it’s best to move on.

So with one mission completed, and the other entirely fucked- you speed away yet again. Leaving two versions of your love to make each other bleed.

How poetic.

——

You need somewhere quiet. Somewhere you feel comfortable enough to slow down and process all that has happened. Somewhere you feel safe.

Mark’s house.

You’re back where it started. A few doors down, you recognize your house- barely. The lawn was all wrong. And the paint colors were too orange. Your house was a beautiful blue and brown. The big maple tree in your front yard was just an old stump.

Had your family redecorated when you died in this world? How did you die? Or had they moved away, and this was the tasteless assortment of an entirely new family? What about your family in your own world? Were they somehow still alive? You hadn’t killed them directly, but with all the violence, you wouldn’t be surprised. Were they waiting for you? Did they miss you? Or had they redecorated too?

Ugh! These existential questions made your brain hurt. You needto resolve the tension in your head.

The living room was exactly how you remembered. The kitchen was exactly how you remembered. The stairs were exactly how you remembered.

Would Mark’s room be the same? You bite your lip as you stand outside the door.

You try to imagine the lives of each of the Marks you had encountered. How different they had all been. What did each of their rooms look like? White Viltrimite coldness? Bloodied wallpaper? A mansion’s plush king bed? Posters of Omni Man on the walls? Pictures of you?

But when you open the door, you gasp. It was so.. unexpected:

It was exactly the same as you remembered.

The seance dog poster, the collections of comic books, the blue sweaters hanging in the closet.

This.

This!! This was your Mark! Of course it was! Your Mark was a hero! He wasn’t one of those sadists destroying the world! How could you have forgotten??

And then you heard the front door open-

“Mom?” A ragged breath called out downstairs- “mom I’m hurt! Where are you?”

It was him! It had to be him, back from saving the world.

You couldn’t help it. Finally things seemed clear to you! Finally you knew what you were fighting for/ What you really wanted.

You rush down the stairs, ready to hold him in your arms. To make him love you if you have to-

A Mohawk.

Mark doesn’t have a Mohawk.

To be fair, he looks just as surprised to see you. Until he starts to look annoyed, and you realize he is not hurt as he starts to whine-

“Aw what the hell, you’re not mom-“ he stops, so suddenly. And stares. At you. All bravado gone, mouth gaping open like a dead fish. Just, staring. Then,

“..y/n?”

Ah dammit, your mask! You lost your mask when dealing with the Viltrimite!

“Is it..” he whispers, “is it really you?”

You don’t even recognize the man in front of you now- all his cockish arrogance dissipated and baked into something gooey and sweet.

“Look, I know what you’re going to say- but I’m not going with you- anywhere.” You start backing up the stairs again- “You can’t have me forever or whatever the fuck- so don’t try to-“

“That’s okay!” He hastily steps toward your retreating form, “all I asked for was a few minutes!”

“What?”

“My deal with Angstrom- I get to say goodbye.”

Oh God. Your heartstrings couldn’t help but play a sympathetic tune. This little annoying fucking prick asshole only asked for- a goodbye?

“What do you mean?” You try to keep your voice level. Steady girl.

“I-“ he sighs. “I lost my y/n. Dad killed her- in front of me. Said she was weak. Said she made me weak.” He looks down in anger, recalling the memory through blazing eyes. But then he looks up again, softer, at you- “I didn’t get to say goodbye. I didn’t get to tell her how much she- that I loved her. Y/N, I love you.”

Your heart clenches, how long had it been since you’d heard those words from Mark Grayson?

Your feet barely make a sound on the stairs as you descend towards the boy who had professed his heart.

“I-“ maybe this was okay to say. Maybe, because he only wanted this moment, you could allow yourself to indulge. Maybe you deserved to have this just as much as he did, “I love you too.”

And his lips find yours. Needy.

You think maybe you should pull away.

But his hands find your neck. Delicate.

And your arms find his shoulder blades. Desperate.

He’s a gentlemen; sweet and chaste. Until he’s not. Very quickly you’re reminded the nature of this variant.

His tongue is insatiable. It explores your mouth with hostility, and you’re pleasantly surprised to feel the cold smooth of a piercing purring itself across your hard palate.

His hands are naughty little explorers as well. They grope and squeeze anywhere they can find purchase, although they linger on your waist, the small of your back, your hair, and definitely your tits. He flicks your nip with his thumb, then returns to it with gentle fingers- feeling the nib grow slowly hard. He repeats the process, growling at the slow increase in sharpness.

You even allow him to grab handfuls of ass. For all his exploring, he discovers that pinching your ass causes you to yelp a little bit- which he loves.

But soon you can’t ignore the growing bulge in the crotch of his suit. And as he reaches for the tiny hidden zipper under your left arm (which of course he knows where the zipper is) you know you have to pull away. You only manage a few inches.

“Ah please baby- I’ve been waiting for this for years” he rasps out, refusing to fully let you go.

“This isn’t a good idea, I- I can’t.” You say, voice light but stiff.

“I forgot how good you kissed. Fuck, I need more babe.”

“That’s all you get.” You wipe your mouth- you gotta get ahold of yourself!

“But- Angstrom. I did my shit. I get more time with you!” His voice has that vulnerable waver in it again now, but it’s edged with something sharper.

“Time’s up.” You step back. This was nice, but you had to get your priorities straight! Only a few moments ago you had chosen your Mark Grayson- and it wasn’t the horny and pleading man in front of you now.

“No, I- c’mon. You- you said you loved me?” He was trying to rebuild his asshole facade, but it was collapsing in on him.

“I meant it.” You did.

“Then, you don’t have to go.” He smiled. An idea latching on in his brain. Uh oh. “Yes! Yeah, cmon. You and I- we could just, we could stay together. Do whatever we wanted. We were fire baby, let’s do it again.”

“No, Mark.”

Hearing his name caught him off guard, and for a moment you thought it might be enough to revert him back to that pleading puppy he was when he confessed his loved for you. Maybe it was enough for convince him to let you go.

It wasn’t.

His fiery eyes reignited tenfold, “Ohhhh baby” he whines- “say it again.”

“Stop it Mark.”

He shivers. “Yeah just like that.”

“You got your moment” you chide. “It’s over now. Get a grip or I‘ll smack you.”

He guffaws. You stand straighter, “I won’t warn you again.”

He’s right in your face in an instant- “you like being smacked a little. I remember. Dirty girl~”

CRACK!

and he was on the ground. Once again, you check for a pulse. He’ll reawaken soon. But for now, you need to begin the second part of your mission:

Secure a spot at the side of your chosen Mark.

And you know just where to look.

—

The pentagon.

Under several layers of ground of concrete, on the B6 floor, there is a top secret hospital wing. In room A2 of this wing, in the recovery unit, two of the strongest individuals on Earth are holding hands.

Eve Wilkins, who had fought valiantly, lays catatonic on the hospital bed. Her leg is crushed, but her heart now beeps rhythmically.

Mark Grayson, who could not protect her, sits beside her. Holding her hand gently at his forehead. He ignores the pleas of an old man.

“Mark, she is in the best hands. I can assure you that as soon as she wakes up, I will alert you. But right now, Earth needs you. You need to get out there, Mark.”

“No. No I’m not leaving her again.”

“Dammit Mark, lock the fuck in. I’m losing heroes left and right. They’re dropping like flies out there. Your brother is out there, Mark. Oliver.”

But the hero remains silent.

“Mark-“

“Sorry, sir. But we’ve got intel on one of the hostiles-“ a strawberry blonde man pokes his head in the room.

“Wha- fine. What is it, Donald?”

“The docile party- the one who doesn’t attack and who might have saved Rex Splode?”

“The girl?”

“Ah- yes, sir. We’ve acquired some new footage of her without her mask. It seems she is not a version of Mark at all.”

Great, cuz Mark’s been pissing me off.

“Who the hell is she?”

“We’ve run her face through our databases, and it seems she is- well, most likely a version of-“ the strawberry blonde man glances at the stoic hero still grave over the hospital bed, but continues- “y/n.”

—

The pentagon would be difficult to overpower. But you weren’t really looking to overpower it anyways. You just needed to make yourself seen.

Honestly, it was a miracle you hadn’t seen the Mark of this world already. Wasn’t he supposed to be protecting the earth? Where the hell was he?

Of course, you hadn’t been doing all that much fighting. You suppose you hadn’t made yourself a priority to a defender of earth.

You need to change that.

As you weave between skyscrapers, you make a mental note: don’t kill civilians. Your new Mark probably wouldn’t appreciate that. Could you still convince him to be with you despite all the damage you’d caused? He would still love you in this world.. right?

SHIT! Your eyes are dizzy as you are flipped belly-up, and rocketed upwards- WHAT THE HELL-

Getting your bearings a little, you realize you are being carried bridal style, and shooting up above the skyline.

“AHHH!! HEYYY!!” you scream blindly. You thrash about a bit, but you’re too disoriented to break the grip of your kidnapper.

Maybe it’s my new Mark? Finally come to pay me some attention?

“Hush now, I’ve got you, y/n.” A variant with Viltrimite logos on his shoulders, and a crisp voice soothes you. Or attempts to.

Damn. No such luck.

You’re tired of this. You jolt your legs up and flip over and out of his grasp. You’re not dizzy this time. No, you’re prepared now.

“Let me guess!” You huff, “you’re in love with me. Angstrom promised you could have me. You saw me flying by, and recognized me. You think you can forcefully claim me. Maybe that worked with your old y/n. But it won’t work with me.”

His eyes are wide with surprise.

“Ah, so Angstrom filled you in already? Good. That will make-“

“NO!” You huff. “Angstrom did NOT fill me in! I figured that out by MYSELF. Because apparently I am the ONLY Invincible who uses their brain. If you would use YOUR brain, you would turn around and leave me the hell alone!”

A moment.

He stared at you.

You huffed a bit.

You shoved a strand of hair of of your face.

And then he laughed.

A large, crystal clear laugh. It rung and sang out.

“I am-“ he stifles a giggle, “I am not used to you being so obstinate.”

“No,” you say flatly, “I’m sure you’re used to getting everything you want.”

“Ahh” he touches his finger to his nose, and winks at you- “that I am.”

You decide you’re going to kick this guy’s teeth in. But how many teeth? It depends. He is sporting two Viltrimite logos. But if past incidents are anything to go by, that’s neither here nor there.

You decide you need to gauge how much you hate this guy.

“So you’re another one of those Viltrum sycophants?”

“Ha! More than that. I am Viltrum’s emperor.”

Alright. So screw this guy!

Your leg is at his jaw in a fraction of a second, ready to kick sense into this guy by kicking some wisdoms out.

But he has caught your ankle in a- delicate- embrace.

Oh fuck.

This guy was insanely fast.

“I’ve enjoyed watching you toddle about with your stolen powers, but- word of advice?” Blinding pain. Agonizing pain in your ankle. He’s broken it, there’s bone protruding. “-don’t fuck with the guy that challenged the most powerful being in the universe and won.”

Your heart is in your stomach. Your hairs stand on end. Your nervous system feels like it’s trying to simultaneously jolt itself awake and into oblivion.

You’re fucking scared.

“AAH!” You cry out again as he releases your ankle. It drops deftly below you.

“Sorry about that, truly.” The predator states with sympathetic eyes- “it’s all tactical, really.”

Blood is gushing out of your ankle, you wonder how long the droplets will take drop on the city below?

“Lambs- you see. When lambs start to wander off from the herd, a Shepard will break its legs. The lamb has to rely on him. So the Shepard will carry the lamb around his shoulders, feeding it and keeping it warm. Until it learns a dependency. So, even when the lamb can walk again- it will never walk far from its loving Shepard.”

His teeth glint as he offers a tiny grin.

You feel yourself become lightheaded. You need to get out of here.

But he’s on you too fast. He offers an arm to you, but you do not take it. You try to back away, but he is insistent. He grabs your hands and wraps them into the crook of his arm.

Pretending to be a gentleman.

He’s not a gentleman. He’s not a Shepard. He’s a wolf.

He’s worse than a wolf. He’s the fucking emperor of Viltrum. You start to really take in what that means. How someone would go about becoming the leader of a warrior species. What they would have to do. What this man had obviously done. Had he killed the emperor before him? That’s.. beyond what you had thought possible. This couldn’t fathomably be Mark Grayson. Your sweet Mark Grayson. And yet it was.

It was at this moment you finally had to contend with yourself;

your Mark was always deranged.

Your Mark had fed you blood. His blood. For months. Without telling you.

Whether he could punch through the core of the Earth or not, Mark Grayson would always be.. fucked.

But strangely, the thought was comforting. It reassured you- that maybe you were not so alone and awful as you had thought.

Taking into consideration everything you had witnessed today- you were finally able to console yourself on one horrible fear which had followed you since Mark had died-

No matter what, Mark Grayson would always love you.

You almost smiled.

“We’ll be happy together, sweet lamb.”

Almost.

—

Fuck. It couldn’t really be you, could it? You had been gone so long, ever since..

No it probably wasn’t you. Don’t get your hopes up, Grayson.

Even if Donald had said the blurry photo of your face was a 90% match.

FUCK! Even just seeing your face- however blurry- was painful and perfect and horrible and wonderful and-

DAMMIT!! What the hell is a guy supposed to do in this scenario? SHIT what was he gonna tell Eve?

Eve is gonna be pissed.

I mean, as soon as Donald mentioned your name, he was up off that hospital bed. He was demanding where you were, how certain they were it was you, what you had been doing, how this was even possible…

And SHITTTT you were wearing HIS SUIT?? FUCK, you had to come back swinging, didn’t you?

But that was JUST LIKE YOU! Of course you would make some grand entrance back into his life. Of course you would be this perfect mess of contradictions.

Making him second guess himself!!

You bear his insignia, but you show up with versions of him intent on destroying the Earth. But you aren’t destroying the earth. But you aren’t exactly helping, either. You look like his first love, but you don’t love him back? Are you on his side? Do you care about him?

FUCK!

He feels like he’s in grade school again. He feels like he’s watching you kiss Toby Fichte at camp again. He feels like he’s playing superheroes with towels for capes in the backyard again. He feels like you’re sitting together, eating sliced apples again. He feels like he’s holding your cold body, and crying out your name again.

And he’s chasing after you again, too.

He can’t help it.

He loves you. No matter what.

He’s speeding towards the Seattle skyline, searching for you, when he catches the faintest smell. It’s sliced apples. It’s campgrounds. It’s comic book pages. It’s clean towels. For a moment, he’s home.

But then he catches something else-

Copper.

—————————————————————————

Wow! Okay so that was WAY LONGER THAN I THOUGHT IT WAS GONNA BE!!

I hope you enjoyed!! I took a good amount of creative liberties (I only watch the show, and although I did some research- I didn’t want to spend more nights working on this than I already had). I tried to get all my favorite variants a good chunk of screen time!!

I’d love to hear your thoughts, and if you’d like a part 2! Also which variant do you think you would choose?

Anyways; much love, and thank you for reading my VERY LONG post. Be well!! :)

#mark grayson #invincible x you #invincible x y/n #invincible variants #invincible x reader #invincible #sinister mark #maskless mark #omni mark #viltrumite #viltrum mark #goggles mark #no goggles mark x reader #no goggles invincible #mohawk mark #mohawk invincible #emperor mark

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cameronsbabydoll · 9 hours ago

Note

can we have rafe x shy reader ft. ward?

ward approves of reader as rafe's girlfriend but he's sneaking around his son's computer just to check if rafe is up to something suspicious

but all he discovers are hour-long videos of you guys fucking and he thought rafe is cheating because there's no way this woman in the video is the shy reader who blushes easily

bonus points if rafe looks like a sub in the clips 😋

a/n: i sorta made rafe a hard dom….

ward wasn’t trying to spy. not really. he just had a hunch.

rafe had been quiet lately—too quiet. smug. disappearing during dinners. getting snippy. and ever since he introduced you—all shy smiles and stuttered greetings—rafe had been on his best behavior, which was exactly why ward didn’t trust it.

so yeah. he waited until rafe went for a run. let himself into his son's room like it was nothing. sat down at the desk, cracked his knuckles, and clicked through the laptop. nothing at first. spreadsheets, music, boring financial crap—until he saw the folder.

“study notes,” it said. password protected.

ward rolled his eyes. like his son ever studied. a few minutes of trial-and-error (and one guess that was just “boobs”) later, he got in.

and what he found…

was not notes.

not unless rafe had started studying bondage.

the first video auto-played. low lighting. the edge of a bed. and moaning. soft, breathy, familiar moaning.

his eyes widened.

“no fuckin’ way.”

you. on your knees. mouth open, eyes glazed. tied up with pink silk rope, your wrists behind your back, body trembling with every gruff order rafe gave you.

"open wider, baby. yeah... just like that. don’t make me tell you again.”

and the worst part?

you looked like you loved it.

you—the girl who could barely look ward in the eye during dinner, who said “thank you, mr. cameron” like you were scared he’d bite—was now on screen with her legs shaking, cheeks wet from tears, begging rafe to let her come.

"p-please, sir, i’ll be good, i promise—"

ward slapped the laptop shut.

sat back. blinked.

whispered, to no one:

“he’s not cheating... holy hell, she’s a freak.”

#cameronsbabydoll ⋆. 𐙚 ˚#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron prompt #outerbanks #outerbanks smut #outerbanks x you #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx

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mediumgayitalian · 3 days ago

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Will wakes up a little bit stuck and a lot bit hot. It’s just past sunrise, from what he can see out of the mostly-shuttered window, which means he’s just past late. Fuck.

“Nico,” he whispers, trying and failing to delicately free himself, “Nico, un-octopus. I gotta pee.”

He does have to pee. Moreso, he needs to wake up and leave, but if Nico hears so much of a syllable pertaining to his abandonment he will never let go. Ergo. Will has learned some creativity.

“Mmfggh,” groans Nico, maturely. He tightens his arms around Will’s waist and buries his face deeper into the (boiling, suffering, sweating, etc) crook of his neck. “No. Suffer.”

“Nico.”

“Sh.”

“Nico.”

“Sh. I’m sleeping.” Will feels more than sees one eye opening, eyelashes tickling his skin. He can guess at the glare. “Don’t you want me to be well-rested and healthy.”

“Right now I kind of want to flick you, honestly.”

Nico hides a smile along Will’s spine.

“That’s because you’re sick and twisted.”

“Mhm. Get off, di Angelo.”

Nico pouts but, finally, relents: he loosens his hold not enough for Will to roll out but enough that he can actually fill his lungs with enough oxygen to wiggle his way to the edge of the bed. Nico, as soon as Will is not glued to him, huffs and rolls over, smothering himself in Will’s pillow.

“I see how it is,” he complains, muffled. “You don’t want me. Fine. See if I hold you next time you come in here all needy and affectionate.” He shifts just enough to glare, once he’s sure Will is looking. “I’ll close the door in your face.”

Will rolls his eyes, smiling. He’s late, but he lingers a moment, tracing his fingers across Nico’s spine, his ribs; trailing along the reddened scratches over his shoulders and ignoring Nico’s nooooo leave them leave them as he heals them.

“You’re such a drama queen.”

“I mean it!”

“Right. You meant it yesterday, too, and yet…”

“You seduced me,” Nico says, emphatically. He sits up quickly and catches Will’s hand, staring at him hard and serious — enough so that Will almost believes him, except the corner of his mouth twitches. “You — did some kind of spell fuckery on me, no doubt purchased from your various witchy sources, and all restraint — gone. Poof. And I have restraint in abundance, so obviously it was not my weakness.”

“Obviously,” Will agrees. “Not like you say my name in your sleep and wake up pouting if I so much as breathe near the door. ‘Course not.”

Nico goes pink. “I — do not.”

Will grins. “You do. Sometimes you try and kiss the air where you imagine I am.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“Whatever you need to believe, darlin’. It’s not like I’m allergic to lying.”

He leaves Nico sputtering, cackling on his way to the ensuite. It is half the reason he’s dating Nico, honestly. How come Will’s cabin doesn’t get an ensuite? They’ve got like a billion people in there. They need it more than he does.

But, well. Will needs an ensuite to get ready most mornings, because he’s up before the harpies are cleared for the night, so he supposes he will just have to sleep at Nico’s more often than not. Shame. Tragedy, really, because he is just so attached to his twin bed that is not long enough for his legs. Too bad.

“I can hear you rearranging products in there,” Nico calls, still grouchy. “Cut it out.”

Will turns the last tube of hair gel so it is just slightly off-centred from the rest of the products. He smiles around his toothbrush.

“Wouldn’t be such an issue if you didn’t have so much hair shit,” he responds, spitting into the sink.

“You should have more hair products! Look at yourself!”

Will does not. He does not have a sister who continues to look judgementally upon his mess of a head and passive aggressively but lovingly gift him hair supplies for all birthdays. He also does not have time to do his hair. Less people should maim themselves for Will to handle all day, and then maybe he’ll do something with his hair.

“You think my hair is sexy,” Will says, walking back into the main cabin. Nico harrumphs from under the covers, notably not denying it, and stares unabashedly — not that there is much to see, since it’s still pretty dark out — at Will while he changes. Will slips on a scrub top and then walks over and pinches him.

“Ow,” Nico whines, rubbing the spot as if he did not try to hide the stab wound he got sparring from him yesterday. “You hurt me.”

“Mhm. You objectified me.”

“…Only a little!”

Will shakes his head, smiling, and leans down — holding Nico’s wandering hands away from the hem of his shirt, he has places to be and has been distracted enough already — to kiss him. It’s a challenge, pressing his smile to Nico’s pout, but very quickly Nico sighs, eyes fluttering shut, and Will can kiss him properly.

“I’ll come wake you up again around noon if you’re not already up,” he murmurs. “I have to open the infirmary, but then I’m practicing for the rest of the day. You’re coming to my game, right?”

Nico tries to slide his hands up Will’s chest. Will bats his hands away.

“Yes,” he says, mournfully. “I will come watch you hit a ball around with other such interested jocks.”

“Bring your pom-poms,” Will says, cheeky, “and I wouldn’t remiss a matching skirt.”

He pulls away to Nico’s snorting laugh, wiggling his fingers in a wave as he heads to the door. He hears Nico’s quick have fun, goober as he pushes the solid obsidian shut behind him and blows a kiss at the window. He stands on the veranda, stretching, and relaxes with a sigh, staring across the common.

Gods, it is early.

And cold.

He trudges his way to the infirmary, anyway, already anticipating tonight’s koala cuddling.

———

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onbearfeet · 3 days ago

Text

I've got to say, as someone who WAS raised/educated in a cult, a lot of this isn't a school system failure at all.

I took Spanish classes in school. I used textbooks. The textbooks were full of pictures of people and places in Latin America. The example sentences were things like "Jaime is from Mexico City." (What do you mean you didn't know Mexico has cities? We all had to memorize world capitals in fifth grade and GUESS WHAT MEXICO'S CAPITAL IS LITERALLY CALLED?! DID YOU THINK IT WAS MADE OF CHEESE OR SOMETHING?!?!?!?!)

Things I've had to explain to my fellow Americans, using information I learned even in my culty white supremacist schools, sometimes while sitting next to the person I was explaining to:

Egypt is in Africa.

The Pilgrims were not the first humans to arrive in North America, nor were they the first Europeans, nor were they even the first ENGLISH PEOPLE to show up.

Judaism predates Christianity.

The United States did not invent the concept of democracy.

There is no one unitary "Indian language", whether you're talking about the indigenous peoples of the Americas OR the people who live in India, so no, you can't "learn to speak Indian".

Shakespeare plays are not written in "Old English".

There are quite a lot of Christians in (predominantly Catholic country), actually.

Most people in (country) do not live in huts in the jungle/desert/mountains/swamp. You are probably thinking of movies with a set budget of ten dollars.

World War II did not start in 1941.

Do not mix bleach and Windex (which contains ammonia).

I think it's something cultural. That whole "my ignorance is as good as your knowledge" thing. I don't know exactly what it is, but my best guess is that it's something to do with the fact that learning begins with acknowledging one's ignorance, and we've spent the last century screaming at the rest of the planet that we're the bestest and the smartestest.

im american and i knew that like in kindergarten so i think some of you are just stupid sorry

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kiwriteswords · 3 days ago

Text

Wilted, Yet Wonderful [Aaron Hotchner x Florist!Reader]

Florist!Reader Masterlist|| Main Masterlist [I need to update this, sorry!]|| Ao3||Word Count: 2.3k|| AN: I am in the midst of the craziest week of my professional life and needed to finish this because I haven't been able to stop thinking about it! Tags/Warnings: mentions of wine, alcohol consumption, Female!Reader, Florist!Reader, Non-BAU!Reader, pre-relationship, pre-established relationship, Sassy!Reader, Flirty!Reader, first dates, flirting, pining, fluff, pure fluff honestly Summary: Everything was set up for a perfect first date: the perfect dress, the perfect man, the perfect pairing...except the perfect schedule.

The thing about Aaron Hotchner was that he didn’t do anything impulsively.

Which made the way he kept “finding reasons” to stop by your shop all the more suspicious.

First, it was Jack’s teacher’s birthday.

Then, a condolence bouquet for a neighbor.

A “just thinking of you” arrangement for Jessica.

At one point, he even ordered a “Congratulations on Your New Dog” bouquet, which you were ninety percent sure he made up.

And every time he walked in--

Stoic, devastating, tie a little loose, eyes a little soft--

You felt it.

That pull.

That inevitability.

You flirted. You teased. You played it cool.

But the truth was, you’d bought a new dress two weeks after the first “chance encounter.”

A little over the top.

A little more extravagant than necessary for a first date.

Still hanging on the back of your office door.

Waiting.

Waiting to be worn.

Waiting for him to finally ask.

It was a Thursday afternoon when it finally happened.

You were elbow-deep in a last-minute baby shower arrangement when the bell jingled, and you looked up, expecting another frantic client.

Instead--

Hotch.

Tie loosened. Jacket slung over his arm. Eyes darker than usual.

He crossed the floor with more purpose than usual, stopping just short of your workspace.

You arched a brow. “Forgot another fake dog birthday?”

He smiled--

Small, genuine. “No.”

You wiped your hands on a towel. “Then to what do I owe the honor?”

He hesitated. Just for a second. The kind of pause that meant something. Meant something for a man like Aaron Hotchner: calculated.

Then he said, steady and low, “I was wondering if you’d let me take you to dinner.”

You froze, towel halfway across the counter.

Your heart did a weird, hiccuping thing in your chest.

You managed--barely--to keep your voice even.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

The catch, of course, was this:

You were a florist.

He was a federal agent.

And life, as it turned out, had other plans.

You cleared a Friday night. Even closed early.

Your hair? Perfect. That dress? To die for.

Five minutes before you locked up, a funeral home called.

Emergency casket spray needed. Tonight.

You guessed there really was some weight to the “to die for dress” since someone really had to die before you could even wear it!

You texted him, fingers flying: I’m so sorry. I have to save a funeral. Rain check?

Hotch replied almost immediately: Of course. Go save the day.

You melted a little. Okay. Not dead yet. (No pun intended.)

New plan: Sunday brunch.

You pulled the dress out. Smoothed it. Stared at it like it owed you money. At this point you did. And a goodnight kiss from those lips you just couldn;t keep thinking about.

Twenty minutes before you were supposed to meet him--

Your shop’s phone rang.

Biggest wedding you’d booked all season?

Thousands and THOUSANDS of dollars hanging on this one?

Canceled.

Needed every arrangement reworked into “congratulations on the divorce” bouquets. “Too bad you already got legally married before the big day, now you need a lawyer” arrangements.

You called Hotch, mortified.

He answered on the first ring.

“Go handle it,” he said, so gentle it made your throat burn.

Most men would have already written you off as uninterested, problematic, or too much to handle (rightfully so).

Third time’s the charm, right?

Right?

…right?

You rescheduled. Thursday night. You did your hair. Your makeup. Even slipped into the dress, heart hammering against the zipper.

Then your phone buzzed.

You didn’t even have to look.

This dress was bad luck, you assumed.

Sure enough--

Hotch’s name.

A voicemail.

You pressed it to your ear.

“I’m so sorry. We caught a case out of state. Jack’s with Jess, and the jet leaves in twenty minutes. Rain check? Please? I want this. I just--"

You shut your eyes. Listened to the strain in his voice.

The honesty.

You texted back: Stay safe. I’m not going anywhere.

You weren’t. You really, really weren’t.

You hadn’t felt butterflies like this in…in…well, ages. It had been so long, and something in your gut (which was annoyingly always right) told you that he was so worth it.

So, the dress stayed on the hanger.

You walked around the shop that night barefoot, music low, half arranging, half daydreaming.

You thought about him--

Exhausted, fighting monsters across state lines.

And you thought about you--

Fighting your own quiet battles with petals and grief and celebration and apology.

You thought about how love--real love--wasn’t about perfect timing.

It was about showing up.

Even if you kept missing the mark.

Even if the universe threw every damn wrench it could find.

Because eventually?

You were going to meet in the middle.

It had been a day from hell.

The kind of day that made you seriously consider shutting off your neon OPEN sign and fleeing to some remote corner of Maine where no one would ever ask you for "something simple, like a dozen custom corsages" twenty minutes before their event started.

First, it was a man in khakis and a Bluetooth headset trying to mansplain carnation symbolism to you.

("Tacky," you muttered the second he left, slamming the register shut.)

Then, it was a woman with sharp nails and sharper words, complaining the "white" roses for her late husband’s memorial were "too cream-colored." (As if you could bleach the petals yourself.)

You wanted to ask if the dead knew the difference between stark white, cream, and ivory. There was none! Not in flower-land. Maybe at the Home Depot picking out paint swatches, but not in garden roses.

Then, a six-year-old threw a full-blown war tantrum over bouquet ribbon colors, knocking over two display vases and turning the aisle into a slip-and-slide of glass and gerbera daisies.

And to top it all off?

A corporate client cancelled a $700 custom standing order after you'd already made it--

Costing you precious materials, time, and, arguably, pieces of your soul.

By mid-afternoon, your hands were cut and sticky from thorns and tape, your back ached, your head pounded, and your patience?

Nonexistent.

Gone. Out the freaking window!!

You were halfway through re-tying a sympathy bouquet (at this point, you needed a sympathy boquet) when your phone buzzed on the counter.

You sighed, ready to ignore it--

But the name flashing on the screen stopped you cold.

Aaron Hotchner.

Your heart did a little stutter step in your chest.

You wiped your hands on your apron and answered, trying not to sound as drained as you felt.

“Hey, you,” you said, voice lighter already. Ah, there it was. The little beacon of peace he brought you.

“Hey, yourself.” His voice was warm, low, steady. Like a hand on your back.

You leaned your hip against the counter, closing your eyes for a second. Just listening.

Rough day?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“The kind where you consider setting the shop on fire and starting over,” you deadpanned.

You could hear the faint smile in his voice when he said, “Need backup?”

“Only if you have a riot shield and a bottle of wine.”

There was a pause. A shift.

Then--

“I was calling to tell you,” he said, “I can see you tonight.”

You froze.

“What?”

“I’ll be back by seven. No cases. No cancellations. Nothing standing between us this time.”

You swallowed hard, heart hammering.

“I--” you laughed a little, breathless. Looking over to yourdress hanging in your backroom, “So, I have this dress.”

“You mentioned it once.” His voice got a little quieter. A little rougher. “You said it was a little much.”

You bit your lip, your cheeks heating. “It’s covered in sequins and flowers.”

There was a low, amused exhale through the phone, “That sounds very you.”

You smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear automatically. “You really want to see it?”

“I really want to see you.”

Your chest ached in the best way.

You leaned harder into the counter, as if your body needed the support against the sudden weight of happiness.

“I’ll make sure I’m there,” he said.

“Promise?”

“I swear.”

You closed your eyes, the tiredness in your body sinking a little, but the excitement thrumming harder.

You talked for a few more minutes--

Nothing urgent, nothing critical.

Just… normal. Him asking if you’d eaten. You teasing him about his inability to distinguish between peonies and garden roses. Both of you dancing around how much you just wanted to be in the same room already.

When you hung up, the shop still smelled like roses and regret.

The vases were still broken.

The sympathy card still needed signing.

But it didn’t matter as much.

Because in the back room, on a hanger above your workbench, there was a dress waiting.

Sequins and silk.

Wild and beautiful.

Just like the way you felt when you thought about seeing him tonight.

And for the first time all day--

You smiled.

You still had chaos to deal with.

You had no business wearing the dress.

By the time you dragged yourself into the back room, every part of you ached--

Your lower back, your ankles, your wrists from tying bows too tight, your pride from one too many cranky customers.

But you’d made a promise.

You slipped the dress on slowly, sequins catching the overhead light like they were mocking you. It felt heavier than you remembered--

Maybe because your limbs were made of cement today. You pulled on your heels, gritting your teeth as your poor, abused feet screamed in protest.

At the mirror by your desk, you dabbed concealer under your eyes. It barely made a dent in the dark circles hollowing your face. So you swept some glitter across your eyelids too, because screw it, maybe they’d distract from everything else.

You looked at yourself for a long second.

And then laughed, a little breathless, a little defeated.

You looked like a raccoon who’d crashed a New Year’s Eve party.

Perfect.

The bell over the shop door jingled.

You didn’t even have the energy to call out. You just grabbed your purse and stumbled toward the front.

And there he was.

Aaron Hotchner.

Leaning in the doorway like he had the weight of a thousand worlds on his shoulders. His dress shirt was rumpled, tie hanging loose around his neck, hair tousled like he'd run his hands through it a dozen times. His eyes were rimmed with exhaustion. He looked like someone had physically dragged him through the worst day imaginable.

You stopped short, blinking at each other.

Two poster children for a sleep aid commercial.

You snorted before you could help it.

He smiled, slow and genuine, like seeing you was the first good thing that had happened to him in days.

And then--

Hotch actually blinked, taking you in fully for the first time.

The dress.

The glitter.

The heels.

You shifted on your aching feet. “This was supposed to look..better.”

He shook his head, slow and certain. “You’re perfect.”

You scoffed, walking past him and locking the door behind you. “Liar.”

He grabbed your hand before you could turn back, lacing his fingers through yours with a firm squeeze.

“I mean it,” he said, voice low. And wow. Could you believe it.

You turned to him fully, heart flipping over despite yourself.

“You look good too,” you said, grinning. “Very ‘FBI agent whose soul just left his body.’ It’s a strong aesthetic for you.”

He laughed under his breat--really laughed--and you felt his hand tighten around yours.

You tugged him toward the door. “Come on. I’m not wasting this dress on a bunch of dead hydrangeas.”

“Where are we going?” He looked at you confused, “I have reservations for us at that tiny italian place downtown?”

“Do you see us right now?” You raised an eyebrow at him, “My place. Wine. Couch. Mutual commiseration.”

“No kidnapping involved?” he teased.

You grinned over your shoulder. “Not unless you ask nicely.”

You barely made it inside your apartment before both of you were kicking your shoes off like they were instruments of torture.

You plopped onto the couch, dress flaring around you, head falling back against the cushions with a groan.

Hotch followed, loosening his tie and dropping it on your coffee table like a white flag.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you said, reaching for the bottle of wine you kept in your emergency stash, right on bar cart that was just within reach of your sofa, “but you look like shit.”

“You’re not far behind.”

You giggled, handing him the corkscrew.

He popped the bottle open with military efficiency, pouring two glasses without even sitting up fully. You clinked your glass against his and muttered:

“To almost dates.”

“To surviving another day.”

You drank. Deep.

Halfway through the first glass, you shifted closer, curling your legs up under you.

Hotch turned his body toward you, watching you over the rim of his glass, something soft and fond blooming in his eyes.

“I think,” you said, swirling your wine lazily, “this is the best first date I’ve ever had.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying that while we’re both dead on our feet, covered in floral debris, drinking emergency wine?”

You nodded, smiling up at him. “Exactly.”

“High standards.”

God, he was so quick and smooth. Always. You were almost a little envious.

You leaned your head onto his shoulder, feeling him chuckle quietly against you.

“Maybe I just like the company,” you murmured.

You felt him shift, felt his hand find your knee, steady and warm, “I do too,” he said, softer now. “More than you know.”

You didn’t even make it through the second glass.

Somewhere between laughing about the angry carnation guy and ever the dramatic, Hotch pretending to die of exhaustion across your couch, you both slid lower, lower--

Until you were lying tangled up in the same blanket, your dress half crumpled, his shirt wrinkled beyond recognition.

No funny business. (not yet anyway.)

Just warmth.

Steady breathing.

The occasional brush of fingertips.

And the unspoken truth humming louder than anything:

You’d found each other.

Even when the world made it impossible.

Even on the worst days.

You’d come to know, especially then.

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016 @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry @Sweethotchlogy @softtdaisy @stilestotherescue @midnghtprentiss @thebestqueenoftheworld @Bookaddictlatina @superlegend216

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girlgenius1111 · 5 hours ago

Text

learning curve part 5

alexia putellas x reader [& r's nephew] after a hectic and rushed morning, will gets sick. r and alexia take care of him. later in the week, r and alexia lose to real madrid, and will tries to help. fluff + hurt comfort 🙂

—

It seemed as though for every obstacle overcome, another one almost immediately presented itself. Every time you were able to push some doubt you had about yourself out of your head, another one replaced it. And every time, Alexia was there to ground you back to reality. She had enough confidence in you that it was okay when you didn’t really feel it in yourself.

And as time passed, your own confidence grew, and it seemed like Alexia’s did too. Until it was shaken.

Mornings in your household were pretty routine. Alexia got up, giving you time to sleep in as she got Will up and ready for the day. At first, you’d felt bad that she was taking the morning with him and you weren’t doing anything. But, as Alexia argued, you did almost the entirety of his bedtime with him, while Alexia pretended not to fall asleep on the sofa. And Ale liked having time with him in the morning, and she was awake anyway.

The two of them had their own special little morning routine, which included a walk around the neighborhood and Will spending 10 minutes picking his outfit out. It was practiced, at this point; Will and Alexia moved through the morning with purpose while you moved through the morning practically half conscious until your coffee kicked in, normally just as you were leaving the house to drop Will at school and head to training.

This morning, however, was neither routine nor practiced. You and Alexia had been up later than you’d intended. Normally, her internal clock woke her up without fail. It seemed that not getting her 9 hours had messed with her internal alarm, and she was roughly shaking you awake just 20 minutes before you had to leave.

“Amor. Amor. We overslept, levántante!” Alexia was almost frantic.

You groaned, batting her hand away from your shoulder. She was usually much nicer when she woke you up, though the circumstances obviously wouldn’t allow for the few minutes she normally spent stroking your hair and kissing your face.

“If you do not get up right now, we won’t have time for coffee.” Alexia called over her shoulder, heading down the hall to get Will up.

And with that, you were scrambling out of bed and stumbling into the bathroom. What followed was a very chaotic and very rushed 20 minutes, but you managed to make it out of the house in time, travel mug of coffee in hand. Will was eating his breakfast quietly in the backseat on the way to his school, Alexia driving calmly like she hadn’t acted like a maniac to get everyone out of the house on time, and you were trying to make your hair look less like Alexia had very clearly had you on your back the night before.

Alexia pulled into the dropoff line, and you reached back to undo Will’s car seat buckles.

“Have a good day, buddy. We’ll see you later.” You told him, ruffling his hair as he gave you a small smile.

“Love you Tia, love you Ale,” he called, opening the door and carefully climbing down out of the car.

You only really had time to think once you were driving towards training, half your coffee already gone. It was more than a little odd that you and Alexia had been allowed to oversleep. Will woke up at roughly the same time everyday, and in the rare event Alexia didn’t get him up, he got her up. Today, though, he’d still been sleeping when she’d gone in to wake him, almost an hour and a half later than normal. It hadn’t struck you as odd until you’d thought about it for more than 5 seconds, but once you had… you were retroactively trying to analyze your nephew’s behavior in the short time you’d been with him that morning.

“Did something seem off to you? With Will this morning?”

Alexia hummed, thinking. “No. A little quiet, I guess. Maybe he didn’t sleep well.”

You nodded, going over Wil’s behavior that morning. Quiet felt like it was only part of it, but Alexia was always more observant than you.

“You’re right. He’s fine.”

“He’s fine.” Alexia echoed, reaching over to grab your hand and lace your fingers with hers. She glanced over with a reassuring smile. “You’re overthinking. He’s okay.”

You returned her smile, trying to convince yourself. There was just this nagging feeling in the back of your head, one you couldn’t get rid of. Will’s face as you dropped him off this morning kept popping into your head, and maybe you were imagining things, but it seemed different than his usual smile. His goodbye had been quieter, and you could have sworn he walked slower into the building than normal.

You shook your head, squeezing Alexia’s hand and trying to focus on her next to you before you began to freak out over nothing. Will was fine.

—

Will was not fine. He’d woken up feeling positively awful, like everything in his body wasn’t working right. His head felt cloudy and his brain felt slower than normal. He’d barely been able to eat even a few bites of his breakfast before he had to give up, his stomach turning. He was warm when he woke up, his dinosaur comforter and matching sheets pushed to the bottom of his bed, but so cold his teeth were chattering in the car on the way to school, even wrapped in his new Barcelona sweatshirt. [Alexia had brought it home for him two days ago, despite you telling her he didn’t need anymore clothes. Alexia was always bringing him home little things she saw that made her think of him, and those were his most favorite things. The brontosaurus ornament from the christmas shop she’d gone to with you, the glow-in-the-dark shoes she’d brought home from a nike photo shoot, the spiderman keychain to attach to his backpack she’d gotten in the airport on the way home from an away game.]

Will wanted nothing more than to go home and burrow under the knit blanket you kept on the couch. He didn’t even care if you didn't let him watch the TV, as long as the icky feeling that filled his entire body went away soon. He thought about saying something, telling you he didn’t feel well.

But then he’d remembered what Alexia had said the night before, about today being an important training session before you played Madrid over the weekend. Will wasn’t quite sure how long training was, but he assumed it was like school, and you’d be gone all day. And Will knew that football was your and Alexia’s job, and his Dad had always told him how important jobs were. When Will still lived with his Dad, he hadn’t been allowed to stay home sick, because his Dad couldn’t miss work.

If anything, your and Alexia’s job seemed even bigger and more important than his Dad’s job. If Will said he was sick, one of you might have to stay home with him and miss training. That would be making way too much trouble, Will had decided. So, he’d put on a brave face and gone to school.

Maybe, when he got home, he could say he was extra tired, and take a nap on the couch with one of you. Maybe you’d lay with him on the couch and scratch his back like you did when he had a bad dream. He had to get through the school day first, a task that was feeling more and more impossible with every passing second.

—

The call came after the gym session. You always kept your phone on you now, as the adult responsible for a small child. It was a beautiful day, the kind that you pictured when you’d signed with Barcelona. Sun shining, warm on your skin. Your muscles ached in the best way, and though your worry for your nephew persisted somewhat, Alexia had been very reassuring. You walked with her now, from the gym out to the pitch, chatting easily about some gossip her sister had told her on the phone. It was funny, how you spent practically all your time together but you never ran out of things to talk about. Your teammates teased you for it, how you were constantly together, attached at the hip.

Your phone rang, but Alexia kept going on about Alba’s horrible co-worker, assuming it wasn’t a call you’d need to take in the middle of training. Yet when you pulled it out of your pocket and saw it was Will’s school calling, and Alexia caught a glimpse of the caller ID over your shoulder, she cut herself off abruptly.

“Hello?” You answered, stopping just off the pitch. You motioned for Alexia to go ahead without you, as Pere was calling everyone to gather around him, but she just rolled her eyes, leaning her head closer to try to listen.

“Hello, is this Will’s guardian?”

“Yes. Is everything okay?”

“Well, we have Will here in the nurse’s office, and…”

You listened intently, as did Alexia, though there was something heavy now weighing on her mind. You’d told her that something wasn’t right with Will that morning. And she hadn’t listened. She’d been more focused on reassuring you and calming your anxiety, not pausing to think whether you might be worrying for a good reason.

The nurse explained that Will had gotten sick in class, and needed to be picked up right away. Alexia was telling one of the assistant coaches who had wandered over that there was a family emergency and you both had to go before you’d even hung up the phone. As soon as you did, though, you turned to Alexia, face pinched with concern.

“Ale, you can stay–”

“No.” Alexia said assuredly, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the building. “We will both go get him.”

Through your concern, your heart felt like it grew in size. Alexia never missed training voluntarily. Never. But now, she was rushing out with barely any notice to go with you to get Will, and you were reminded of how lucky you were to have her with you in this.

Even if she wasn’t thinking the same thing about herself in that moment.

—

The two of you rushed into the nurse’s office, panicked to a level that the nurse was not unfamiliar with. It was always the same with first time parents, when they had to come get their sick kid from school for the first time. The panic was always the same, you and Alexia practically breaking down her door in your haste to get to your nephew.

“Will,” you sighed, some of the stress and anxiety leaving your body at the sight of him in front of you. He was curled up on his side, tears still falling, pale and shaky, yet you were with him now, and that made it a little better.

“I’m sorry.” Will whimpered, sitting up shakily and wiping at his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay, mi amor, don’t be sorry.” Alexia cooed, crouching down in front of the small cot and leaning in to kiss Will’s temple. She followed up with her hand right after, pressing it to his forehead and feeling the heat of his skin. He had a fever. How had she missed this?

Carefully, you pulled Will into your arms, lifting him easily.

“Please don’t be sorry, Will. I’m sorry we didn’t realize you weren’t feeling well.” You told him, slowly rubbing his back as he cried.

“I threw up in class and everyone saw.” He sobbed, burying his face in your neck. Your heart broke, and one look at Alexia told you hers was doing the same.

“I’ll sign him out.” Alexia murmured, resting one hand on Will’s back for a moment before heading to the desk, Will’s dinosaur backpack comically slung over her shoulder. You began to walk with your nephew out of the building and to the car, hearing his cries begin to slow.

When you finally got him buckled into his seat, after some convincing required to get him to let go of you, you felt his forehead just as Alexia had.

“Oh, buddy, you’re burning up.” You murmured.

Will’s lip was still trembling, but he tried to smile at you. “I’m… I’m okay.”

You could have laughed at how visibly untrue that statement was, but nothing about this was funny. Not even Alexia wearing Will’s backpack out to the car, much too small on her back.

You just kissed the top of his head, shut his door and headed around to the passenger seat. The car was quiet for a minute as Alexia backed out of the parking lot, only just noticing how poorly she had parked in her haste to get to Will.

“Are we going to football?” Will piped up quietly from the backseat. He’d come a few times, when he hadn’t had school, and he was hoping you and Ale would just bring him there so you wouldn’t miss work.

You and your girlfriend exchanged confused glances, Alexia studying him in the rearview mirror.

“No, bud, we’re going home. You’re sick, you need to rest.” You replied.

You weren’t expecting Will to start crying again, but the sound of his sniffling soon filled the car.

“But… but work is important. You can’t miss just for me!”

You twisted around in your seat to look at him, reaching out a hand to rest on his knee. His little face was flushed red, from sickness or emotion you weren’t sure. It shattered your heart that he would ever presume that football was more important than him.

“Will, you are much more important than work. So much more important.” You told him, tilting your head slightly to make eye contact with him.

“Cariño, did you feel ill this morning and not tell us because we had training?” Alexia cut in, the question practically burning on the way out.

A moment passed before your nephew nodded slightly. You half wanted to tell Alexia to stop the car so you could get into the backseat and pull Will into your arms, and half wanted Alexia to just run you over. You weren’t sure where he’d gotten the idea to lie about being sick, but it felt like a massive failure on your part.

“If you’re sick, baby, you have to tell us so we can take care of you. You don’t need to worry about football or training or anything; you come first, okay?”

“Will, you are the most important to us. More than football, do you understand?” Alexia asked, her voice shaking slightly with emotion.

Will nodded, his brown hair flopping into his eyes as he did so. “Okay.”

—

Alexia felt like the guilt could crush her. She never never wanted you or Will to think that football was more important to her. Yet here Will was, so sick his little body was shaking, but he’d tried to power through so he wouldn’t interrupt training.

It was with this guilt in her mind that she hovered uncertainly over the sofa, watching as you tucked Will under her favorite knit blanket, the one she preferred when she was sick, too. Alexia assumed neither you nor Will would want her around in that moment. You, because she’d talked you out of being rightfully worried for your nephew. And Will, for making him feel like he came second to her.

She was minutes away from offering to go to the grocery store and get the ingredients to make soup, just so she could have an excuse to call her Mami in the car and tell her how badly she messed up.

Well, how badly she thought she messed up.

“Okay, buddy. What can I get you? A snack? Soup? Anything?” You wondered, brushing his hair out of his face.

Alexia’s thoughts were still racing as Will’s gaze flicked over to her.

“Pancakes?” He wondered quietly, giving you a half smile. You chuckled, not sure why you thought he’d ask for anything else.

“Of course. I’ll go make them.” You stood, freezing when Alexia cleared her throat and spoke shakily.

“No, I can. You stay here with him.” She said quietly.

You raised your eyebrows, something about your girlfriend’s demeanor throwing you off. She seemed miserable and close to tears, somehow. Frowning, you opened your mouth, ready to ask her to join you in the kitchen for a minute so you could figure out what was wrong.

Will beat you to it, though. “Tia, sit with me?”

Will wasn’t looking at you, though. He was looking at Alexia. Her gaze flickered between yours and Will’s for a moment, completely dumbstruck.

“M-me?” Alexia asked, wringing her hands together. It had been a while since you’d seen her like this, so visibly upset when she was normally the picture of composure.

It didn’t seem to push Will off, though, because he just nodded. “Tia Ale sit with me. Tia go make pancakes.”

Will had called Alexia… Alexia the entire few months he’d been here. Sometimes Ale, but never anything else. You were Tia, and Alexia was Alexia. Until now, apparently.

Alexia could have sobbed, truly. Just when she’d been thoroughly convinced she was a horrible.. guardian or whatever she was, Will had innocently asked for her to sit with him, and fixed every doubt that was gripping her heart.

And you… you were looking at her with tears in your own eyes, a smile on your face. There was no annoyance on your face, no blame in your eyes. You just looked happy.

Maybe she hadn’t messed up as bad as she thought.

Without another word, Alexia sat on the couch, sliding under the blanket with Will and tucking him into her side. He snuggled right against her, his face still slightly pinched with discomfort, but seeming a lot more comfortable now.

After a minute of silence, Alexia now beaming at you from the couch, Will looked away from the TV back to where you were standing, watching the two of them fondly.

“Tia? Pancakes? Please?” He reminded you.

You nodded with a small laugh, leaning down to kiss his temple, and Alexia’s before heading into the kitchen.

You really loved your little family.

—

Will admittedly didn’t know much about football. He knew that you and Alexia were very good, knew that you both worked very hard. He knew Barcelona wore the blue and red colors, and he’d learned the numbers that appeared on the back of your kits. Though he’d yet to attend a match, he’d watched most of them from Eli’s couch while she gave him all the snacks he could ever want.

Will was watching when you and Alexia lost to Real Madrid, and Eli tried to explain to him the significance. All he really took away from that conversation, though, was that you and Ale would be sad, and he should probably give you hugs to make it better.

He’d done so when you picked him up from Eli’s, allowing Alexia time to head home and decompress. Will hugged you tight, Alexia even tighter once he got home and saw the frown on her face. It was late in the evening, already past his bedtime, and the two of you were very quiet.

Will thought he sort of knew how you felt, because he didn’t like losing the games at recess, either. There wasn’t much he could think to do, though. He’d barely been home 10 minutes before you were asking him to go get his pajamas out, so he could start getting ready for bed. You and Alexia walked in a few minutes later, after having a tense whispered conversation in the hall, one that Will did not miss.

He could tell you were both upset, but you tried your best not to let it show that you were somewhat upset with each other. It always happened after a loss, especially one like this. You and Alexia would be tense, snap at each other. It was a different situation entirely now that Will was here, his little face gazing up at the two of you, wide eyed, where he sat tucked under his covers.

He’d put his pajamas on himself, and both you and Alexia cracked smiles when you noticed his shirt was on backwards. He smiled back, wordlessly holding out his favorite book for one of you to read.

You took it, perching on the edge of his bed while Alexia leaned in the doorway, exhaustion causing her eyes to droop. Will looked between the two of you as you opened the book.

“Are you fighting?”

Alexia’s eyes were on you, you could tell, waiting for you to take the lead. You didn’t quite feel like looking at her, so you smiled softly at your nephew, running a hand through his brown curls.

“No, bud. We’ve just had a long day.”

Will looked dubious, even as Alexia nodded along.

“It sounded like you were fighting. In the hall. When you said Alexia was being mean and Alexia said you didn’t care about her feelings.”

You froze at that, not quite sure what your response was supposed to be. You were so tired, too tired to figure out how to explain that you and Alexia were just having a small argument to Will. Every part of your body ached from the physical match that had been played, and you swore you still felt as cold as if you’d stepped out of the rain just a minute ago and not several hours ago.

Just before you were about to stumble your way through some explanation, Alexia cleared her throat.

“We aren’t fighting, cariño. Your Tia and I just care a lot about football, and when we lose, it makes us sad.”

“That’s what Eli said, that you would be sad, and I should give you a really big hug.”

Alexia smiled softly, stepping further into the room, but not quite approaching you. You still wouldn’t look at her.

“She’s right, your hug made me feel so much better. Your Tia and I hate losing, and sometimes we aren’t very nice to each other after we lose. But we aren’t fighting, just… disagreeing.”

Will thought for a moment, his fingers fiddling with his navy blue spiderman pajama top.

“You should be better at losing.” He said finally.

You snorted, and Alexia laughed. Will smiled proudly, even as you shook your head in mock disbelief.

“Says the little boy who flipped the board over when he lost at checkers yesterday!”

Will giggled, and the tension was broken. Mostly.

Neither of you wanted him to carry the weight you were feeling, feel sad just because you both were. You kept his nighttime routine as normal as possible, reading his book and tucking him in, both of you kissing his forehead before heading out.

Alexia didn’t say anything as you headed to your shared bedroom, but to be fair, neither did you. It was a bit early for the two of you to head to bed, but after the day you’d had, both of you knew sleep would be the best thing.

Pajamas on, you and Alexia slid into bed, the room still silent. It only took a minute after you flicked the light off for the bed to shift, Alexia’s warm body sliding closer until she was pressed up against you.

Tired of being mad, you turned into her, resting your head against her chest as her arms encircled you. A deep sigh escaped you, and you felt like it was the first real breath you’d had since the full time whistle had blown.

“I’m sorry. I was harsh, and I shouldn’t have been. I love you.” Alexia murmured, lips pressing a kiss to your hair.

You snuggled closer, inhaling again the scent of her. “I’m sorry too. You’re allowed to be upset, I shouldn’t have tried to fix it when you just needed to feel it.”

“And we both need to get better at losing.” Alexia replied. You could hear the small grin in her voice, feel her chest shake slightly as she chuckled.

“Apparently.” You agreed.

“Goodnight, mi amor.”

“Goodnight my Ale.”

And just like that, everything was fine again. Everything was fixed.

—

Will woke early the next morning. As was his routine, he got up and headed for your room to wake Alexia up. She was an early riser, didn’t mind getting up with him and letting you sleep in. Most of the time, she was already kind of awake, scrolling on her phone.

This morning, though, when Will pushed the door open and peaked his head in, Alexia wasn’t awake. She was out cold, head practically shoved under her pillow, while you slept completely on the other side of the bed, one arm hanging off the side of the bed. You both looked very comfy, and Will remembered last night, how tired Alexia had seemed. She’d practically fallen asleep in his doorway standing up.

Thinking for a moment, Will turned around and headed back to his room. He grabbed his ipad out from his backpack, the one he took with him for the car trip to Eli’s. He wasn’t technically supposed to have it now, but he figured that you wouldn’t mind if he let you sleep. He grabbed his headphones, too, his favorite blanket and his most favorite dino, Robert. As quietly as he could, he crept back down the hall and into your room. Climbing up on the bed, he took advantage of the ample space between the two of you, settling back against the pillows under his blankie. He plugged his headphones in, tucked his dino under one arm, and pressed play on his favorite dinosaur show.

This way, you both could keep sleeping, and he didn’t have to play alone somewhere by himself.

—

You awoke to small, insistent hands pulling at the comforter so it covered more of you. Before you could open your eyes, little hands pushing into the blanket, tucking it in nice and tight around you. Groggily, you cracked an eye, finding Will’s face just a few inches away. He looked… guilty, like he’d looked when he broke the vase on the coffee table, and you were immediately alert.

“What’s up bud?” You whispered, conscious that Ale was still asleep on the other side of your nephew.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean t’wake you.” Will whispered back. “You looked cold.”

“What are you doing in here, hm? You should be in your bed.”

Will pulled a face, tugging his headphones off his head. “But it’s late and I was bored.”

You clocked the sun peaking in between the curtains, startled to realize it was much higher in the sky than it should have been. It was at least 10, and Will always got up before 7:30.

“Oh, buddy, it is late. I’m so sorry, why didn’t you wake one of us up?”

By one of us, you meant Alexia.

Will just shrugged, shyly smiling at you. “You were sad last night. And when I’m sad, you tell me it makes my body tired and that’s why I’m more sleepy. So you needed more sleep too, you and Tia Ale.”

Your heart melted and you pulled the small boy down into your arms, squeezing tight.

“You are the sweetest boy.” You told him.

Will beamed, squeezing you back. “I got my ipad even though I wasn’t supposed to.”

Leaning back, you brushed his messy hair off his forehead. That was what the guilty look was for. As if you’d be upset with him for wanting to let you both sleep, but also not wanting to be by himself. As if you’d be mad he brought his ipad in here and put on his Dino show and wore his headphones and tucked the blankets around you because you looked cold.

“That’s okay, buddy.” You replied. “You are so thoughtful to let us sleep in.”

“Tia Ale says it’s important to be thoughtful and kind.” Will said, echoing something you knew Alexia told him every morning before he left for school. It was something her Mami had always said to her, Alexia had told you once.

“Alexia is right.” You nodded, settling back into the pillows with Will now laid in your arms. Next to him, the mattress shifted, and a raspy voice piped up.

“Alexia is always right.” Ale said sleepily, not even opening her eyes as she blindly reached to pat Will on the head. Will laughed, a sound that was quickly becoming one of your favorites in the world.

For a few minutes, the room stayed silent, Will laid between the two of you, for the moment content to sit still. You were still waking up, and Alexia could probably barely be considered awake.

“Hey, Tia?” Will murmured, breaking the quiet peacefulness of the morning. You hummed for him to continue. “Can I call my Daddy?”

Sometimes you forgot. You shouldn’t forget, but you did, and you knew Ale did too. Sometimes things just went so well, Will fit so perfectly into your family that you forgot the circumstances under which he was here. And when you remembered, you were instantly filled with guilt. Like you were stealing something from your brother. You should be talking more about Leo, calling Leo more often.

Will wasn’t yours, but he was. It was a difficult line to walk, a difficult thing to balance. Will wasn’t your son but you felt like a parent. Alexia felt like a parent, had taken to being one so easily. But Will wasn’t your son. He was your nephew, and the last thing you wanted was to try to take the place of Leo.

As you pulled your phone out, dialling the number for the prison, you wondered if you’d ever figure out how to fit into Will’s life without feeling like you weren’t doing enough, were doing too much. You wondered if you’d ever feel like you were doing right by your brother, and right by Will.

You were torn from your spiral when the call connected. Instead of the usual robotic voice stating you would soon be connected through to Leo, it was the same robotic voice, telling you the call had not been accepted. There were plenty of reasons for Leo not to pick up the phone, plenty of real, valid reasons. For some reason you couldn’t explain, though, your stomach had dropped. Something about it felt wrong, especially knowing that Leo knew Will liked to call Sunday mornings.

You glanced over to where Will was poking at Alexia’s face, where she was pretending to be going back to sleep. He was laughing, and you could see Ale fighting a small smile herself. With a deep sigh, you forced a tense smile onto your face.

“Will?” The boy turned towards you, face lit up with excitement as he reached for the phone. “I’m sorry, baby, your Dad couldn’t pick up. He’s… he’s busy.”

The smile fell from Will’s face, the room suddenly feeling a few degrees colder. Alexia’s eyes flew open, fixed on Will’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment.

“Oh. Okay.” He whispered, fidgeting with his fingers in his lap.

It was like the life had been sucked out of him. You thought hard, trying to think of anything you could offer him or promise him that would lift his mood again. Alexia beat you to it.

“Hey, cariño? Do you want to go out for pancakes?” She suggested, resting a hand on Will’s back.

Still staring at his hands tightly clasped in his lap, Will slowly shook his head, much to your astonishment. Will never turned down pancakes, especially at his favorite breakfast place. You didn’t go often because it was a ways away, and normally, the suggestion would have had him skipping around the room with joy.

“No thank you.” He mumbled, sniffling. His small fist came up to rub at his face and your heart broke even more. Alexia looked like she was in physical pain, fighting the urge to pull Will into a bone crushing hug.

Carefully, you shifted back down in the bed, opening your arms for your nephew. He practically lunged forward, wrapping his arms tight around your neck and shoving his face into your shoulder.

“Oh, buddy.” You murmured, wishing there was something you could say to make it better.

There wasn’t.

Alexia ran a hand through her disheveled hair and moved closer, wrapping her arms around you both as she kissed the top of Will’s head. One of Will’s hands unwrapped itself from around your neck, moving to grab a fistful of Alexia’s sweatshirt. Like he was trying to be as close to the two of you as possible, as if you could protect him from what he was feeling. You wished you could, more than anything.

The three of you sat there in silence, all deep in thought, and you knew neither you nor Alexia would move until Will moved.

What you didn’t know, though, was that this was the first of many unexplained declined calls from Leo. Just the beginning of a sudden complete silence you couldn’t begin to explain to yourself or to Will.

—

:) cranked this out in between studying. hope you enjoyed ❤️‍🩹

#woso x reader #woso imagine #barcelona femeni x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #woso fanfics

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