#my uncle throws his glass eye at people when they annoy him because it freaks people out

[transboykirito]

also just... look at all the sao characters. look at kirito and co. that's a group of people who would be sad and compassionate about themselves or their friend losing a body part for all of 2 days before they start figuring out the dumbest jokes possible.

agil asks for a hand making some food? kazuto's passing him his prosthetic arm.

shino has to jump to reach something on a high shelf? here comes kazuto with the classic, "damn, your legs cost you that much and they couldn't even give you the height you missed out on the first time around?"

asuna and kazuto ask sugu to keep an eye on yui while they have a date night? they come home to find suguha napping on the couch with her glass eye sitting on the coffee table facing yui, who is drawing in sharpie on the wall.

kazuto's highest form of entertainment is trying to do wheelies in his wheelchair. klein's highest form of entertainment is getting videos of kazuto eating shit when he tries to do wheelies in his wheelchair. shino's highest form of entertainment is watching asuna scold kazuto for trying to do wheelies in his wheelchair.

[lovelybarnes]

family- p. parker

pairings: peter parker x reader, reader x ocs, peter parker x ocs

warnings: none? ig peter with glasses and a little freaking out at the beginning

about: requested! peter meets your family

a/n: thank you so much for requesting!! i hope you like this!

your eye twitched as you stared, hearing the words peter was saying but being unable to process them. this was not as serious as you were making it out to be, you knew that, but dammit, were you still nervous. your fingers were drummed lighty on your thigh, watching peter hunched over his desk, scrawling sentences on his notebook.

“y/n?” peter asked, suddenly at your legs. “are you okay? you kind of spaced out for a second there.”

you let out a long breath, squeezing your eyes shut, “i’m leaving to go visit my family for a weekend, and- i love them so much, but i’m going to miss you, and it’s so many people, i’m just really nervous, i haven’t seen my aunt gloria in like four years and my aunt maribel always ambushes me about the boyfriend and the-”

“hey, calm down, it’s- you’re gonna miss me?” peter asked, cutting himself off and you glared at him. “okay, not the point, why are you so nervous about this?”

you shrugged, nuzzling your head into his shoulder when he sat down next to you, “i love them but they’re just a lot. it’s just-” you sighed, a stray conversation between you and your mother from a few days ago coming back to you. “hey,” you started, lifting your head off of peter’s body. “do you have plans this weekend? my mom told me to extend an invitation to you if you were free.”

peter’s face lit up, and you relished in the shine in his eyes. “yeah! yeah, i’m free! you really want me to meet your family?”

you sucked in a small breath in remembering that fact but nodded, “yes. i kind of breezed over that fact, which i shouldn’t have, but now that i can think about it, i do. i’m so sure they’re going to love you.”

“i hope they do,” peter said, nerves laced within his voice and you pouted, pressing your lips to his jaw. “they will. i doubt anyone couldn't.”

peter snorted, “yeah, well ask flash. or the vulture. or-”

“they’re literal villains! and flash- they’ll love you, you’ll see.”

-

you were still nervous on the day you left for the huge cabin you and your family would be staying at; although considerably less so with peter’s arm wrapped around you and his lips repeatedly pressing kisses to your cheek in the backseat of your mother’s car. you could practically feel your anxiety melting with each press of his lips against your cheek.

as he rested his head against your shoulders, you twirled his hair around your fingers, appreciating the effect the shower he’d taken hurriedly had had on his hair; leaving it damp and curlier than usual. he was silent for the most part, until he lifted his head and you dropped your hand.

“so, tell me about your family members! what are all their names?” peter requested, and your mother raised an eyebrow, “that’s going to take a lot longer than this trip.”

you nodded, “she’s right, it’s better if i just introduce them to you when we get there.”

you whisper now, “i will tell you that my aunt lauren- really skinny and small- will ask you if you’re a secret superhero. she doesn’t know anything, she asks everyone that, don’t panic.

“i have a bajillion little cousins that will be all over you, so hopefully you don’t get too annoyed by children. my uncle carlos will clap you really hard on the back, my aunt lola likes to be called lolita and will bake you too many cookies to eat. please eat them even if you hate them, she’s just trying to make everyone happy.”

peter is nodding along, as focused as you’ve seen him in class. “she sounds sweet, and i doubt i’ll have any problems with your uncle carlos, seeing as i’m spider-man and all.”

you laugh softly, rolling your eyes. “yes, well, let’s see how well spider-man can handle twenty or so relatives throwing themselves at him.”

-

you almost feel dumb for stressing out so much about the event while you watch peter interact with your family- key word almost, when you notice the pleading look he’s sending you while being trapped in your grandmother’s embrace. you walk over to him at once, tapping your grandmother’s shoulder lightly, “grandma? pete needs to breathe,” you point out, and she pulls away, “oh, i’m sorry!” she exclaims, patting him on the cheek, “i have to attend to rosa’s mess of a dinner in the kitchen, it was nice to meet you,” she tells peter. he nods, and your grandma begins to walk away, stopping next to you. “he’s so cute,” she whispers to you, but, of course, peter catches it and beams.

your grandmother strokes your cheek before slapping it gently as a form of goodbye, walking away.

“they do like me!” peter whispers excitedly, and you smile at him, grabbing his hand, “of course they do, but these are the easy ones.” he tilts his head at you, looking so much like a puppy that you nearly coo. “what do you mean?” he asks, and you tug him by the hand, heading to another room.

you bite your lip, “my cousins. the first boyfriend i brought here, they told me they didn’t like him, and two months later, i found out he cheated. it’s happened two times, they’re, like, psychic.”

“this is making me nervous,” peter mumbled, drawing small circles on your hand. humming, you  turn to him, promising your next words, “you’re going to be fine, you’ll see.”

you kiss his nose and give his hand a squeeze, “they’re just little kids.”

you open the door, “with surprising intuitive abilities,” you mutter before your favorite little cousin spots and immediately runs to you. “y/n!” she screams, and you grin, bending down to her level and picking her up. “hi, kami!” you greet, kissing her cheek, and she giggles. she pauses for a second, squinting at peter standing behind you. “who’s this?” she asks, and you turn slightly, “this is peter, he’s my boyfriend.”

peter extends his hand to her with a dorky smile, and she looks at him for a moment before taking it.

other small people are beginning to crowd around you, and you put kamila down, gasping at all the barbies being shown to you and eventually being directed to sit down at a chair, nodding along to an explanation of a video game you’d seen peter play before.

after a little while, diego is distracted enough for you to be able to look up and see peter, in his absolute element, playing with kamila, liam, and veronica. he’s smiling, watching kamila color with veronica in his lap. liam is poking at his arm, directing his attention to the tablet in his chubby hands. veronica swipes at peter’s glasses, which sit perched on his nose.

with brown curls falling over his forehead, black rimmed glasses on his face, and surrounded by your little cousins, you can feel yourself falling even deeper for him, because how can you not? how can you not love the boy who is sitting in a cabin with your family, entertaining the cousins you love?

before you can freak out properly, you are pulled away by kamila, who has appeared by your side and instructs you to play in the play kitchen with her.

not five minutes after, while you are in the middle of making a fake salad, peter appears beside you, offering his help to kamila. he gets right to work, turning the knobs on the plastic kitchen, and he turns to you and mouths trophy husband with a goofy smile.

seeing him mixing a bowl of plastic food, you’re reminded of the alarming realization of just how in love you are with peter parker.

[sergeantsporks]

Nowhere Else to Go

Rating: Teen, Gen

Graphic depictions of violence, Major character death.

TW: Self-harm, mentioned child abuse, emotional manipulation

Chapter 1/4: Houseguest

The titan's plan wasn't some glorious purpose. Hunter found that out the hard way. And now there's not many places he can turn to.

Ao3

“I’m going to get more elixir.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

“I will be gone for a few hours.”

“Right.”

“You’ll be okay alone for a few hours?”

 Lilith looked up from where she was poring over a few of the ancient scrolls her mother had picked up trying to heal Eda—even if they were mostly hoaxes, there was likely a grain of truth in them. “Yes, Mom. I’m sure I can handle a few hours on my own.” Probably better than I do when you’re hovering over my shoulder.

Her mother paused at the door. “Love you, sweet flea.”

“Love you too, mom.”

And then she was gone. It was an… odd sensation, having her mother so worried about her. Caring so much. Lilith could almost understand why Eda had felt so smothered.

That didn’t mean it was a necessarily bad feeling. Just… different.

Lilith stretched and yawned, rubbing her eyes. Alright. Time to stop staring at bogus documents before she started needing to wear glasses all of the time again.

A knock at the door echoed through the silent house, and she frowned. No way that her mother was back yet. Lilith scribbled a few glyphs down  on scraps of paper and approached the door slowly, opening it with a jerk. The world tilted and dropped away beneath her.

Belos was at the door.

He’d come to finish her off—

What if her mother came home?!

“Lilith—” Belos started.

Lilith didn’t give him the chance to get any further. She slapped one of her light glyphs, squeezing her eyes shut as the flash went off, then went on the offensive, kicking Belos in the chest.

“I might not be the witch I used to be, but I am not powerless,” she hissed, sweeping his legs out from underneath him and tracing a quick ice glyph in the dirt to make shackles of ice that locked him in place.

“Wait!” Belos yelped, “It’s not—I’m not—Lilith, I’m not the emperor!”

“That is just about the worst ploy I’ve ever heard. Any last words before I rid the Boiling Isles of your rot?”

“You were the one who burned a shelf of library books because you were using wild magic!” he yelped in a very un-Belos-like voice.

It was an incredibly random detail to bring up, and filled her with a really ridiculous amount of annoyance given the situation she was in. “That brat! He promised he wouldn’t tell you!”

“I didn’t!” Belos protested, then after a second, “Hey, brat?! Really?!”

Waitasecond. Lilith squinted at him. “…Golden Guard?”

“Not anymore,” Belos replied sullenly.

Right. There was probably a reasonable explanation for this. “You… hit a growth spurt? And changed the outfit?”

He didn’t reply. Lilith heard something that sounded suspiciously like a sniff. “Are you… okay?” she ventured.

“NO, I’m NOT!” he burst, “Uncle Belos, he did—I don’t know, something, and now I’m stuck in his rotting body, and I… I don’t understand!”

A single tear rolled out from under Belos’ mask, and Lilith ripped the thing off.

Oh.

Oh, that was gross. Lilith stumbled back with a yelp. “What is that?!”

“Oh, what, like you turning into a great big owl monster is any better?” he retorted.

“Yes! Yes it is!” Lilith melted the ice shackles, squinting at him. “What… what happened?!”

“I don’t know,” he repeated, sitting up, “It’s a curse of some kind, but he never told me anything about it, I just…”

“No, wait, better question. Why did you come here?! We’ve never gotten along—what are you playing?”

He looked away, his hands balling Belos’ robes up into fists. “I… didn’t know where else to go.”

“My sister would have been a better bet,” Lilith said flatly, “She seems to be making a habit of collecting strays recently. Let’s see, misplaced demon king, human, bird worm—yes, I do believe a kid trapped in the body of her worst enemy would fit right in.”

“You think I didn’t consider that first? But I’m willing to bet that’s exactly where Belos will be going. If he plays the runaway card, your sister will be putty in his—or my, technically—hands. And I don't think they'd listen to me while I look like this.”

The momentary flare of hurt that Eda was, once again, the first choice, was almost immediately overturned with the thought of Belos sneaking into the owl house. Lilith ran for her mother’s crystal ball. “I’ve got to warn her!”

The golden guard hesitated in the doorway, watching her as she opened and slammed shut cabinets. She glanced at him. “What?!”

“Can I—you never answered—”

“What? Yes. Fine. Come in. Try not to get that weird face slime on the floor, my mother will freak.” Lilith tore through the cabinets. “Oh, come on! I know she has one! Hey, guard boy, help me look.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Lilith rolled her eyes, performing a smarmy little bow as she opened another drawer. “Oh, do lower thineself to help such a peasant as I, Golden Guard, sir.”

He scooted a little further into the house, checking under the couch. “Just Hunter. Please.”

Lilith paused, mid-slamming of a cabinet door. “That’s your name?”

“Of course it is!”

Of cOuRsE iT iS. Lilith finished slamming the cabinet shut. “Pardon me, but you never deigned to tell me! Or Kikimora!”

“The human never told you, though?”

“The hu—Luz? Oh, of course you told her. Sure. Why not? I suppose I’m always the last to know.” Lilith opened one last cabinet. “Oh, finally!” she pulled out the crystal ball. “Owl House. Edalyn Clawthorne.”

The ball went hazy, then re-asserted itself to a lovely view of Hooty’s face. “LULU!!!!!”

Despite the severity of the situation, despite the fact that Hunter-in-the-body-of-Belos was standing right there—hiding behind the couch, actually what was he doing there?—Lilith felt a smile creep over her face. “Hootcifer! Hey, the Golden Guard hasn’t shown his face around there, has he?”

“Bad but sad? Noooooope!”

“I resent that nickname,” Hunter muttered from his hiding spot.

“Okay. Good. I need you to make sure he doesn’t come in, and if Edalyn tries to bring him in… let him know exactly why it was so hard for me to capture my sister.”

“Okay! Any reason why?”

“Belos is up to something. I can’t tell you much over the crystal ball, I don’t know who’s watching. But the Golden Guard is part of it, and you can’t trust him. Don’t let him in, no matter what sob story he sells.”

“Got it, Lulu!”

The crystal ball faded to its usual blue color, and Lilith knelt on the couch, peering over the back at Hunter. “…What are you doing?”

“I’d think it was pretty obvious.”

Lilith thought she just might strangle this kid before the day was out. “Okay, fine. Why are you hiding behind the couch?”

“Because I look like Belos, and if they saw me here, they’d probably come swooping to your rescue.”

Lilith crossed her arms. “Maybe I’ll let them. So what if Belos was using you? He used all of us, you’re not special. At least I was trying to help my sister and fix the mistake I made. What’s your excuse?”

“I… don’t have one.”

“Wonderful.” Lilith grabbed the back of his robes, yanking him up to his feet. “Out. If Belos comes looking for you—”

Hunter grabbed her wrist, panicked. “Please don’t kick me out! I don’t…”

“Have anywhere else to go, I know.” Lilith twisted her arm out of his grasp. “Fine. Fine. Luckily for you, I’m trying to be a… better person.”

Hunter snorted.

“Do you want to stay here or not, brat?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Then stop acting like one! Belos told you that you were special, and you believed him. This body swap thing? That’s why you were special, okay, it wasn’t because you had some great purpose, you weren’t meant to save anyone, or make the world a better place or any of that, you were just the perfect vessel for him to stick his slimy soul in, so don’t act like you’re better than me, because you’re not.”

Hunter jerked back, his lip quivering. Lilith took in a deep breath. Okay. Maybe that had been a bit too far—she had to remind herself that this kid was Luz’s age, just about, and he hadn’t really had anyone but Belos. “Belos was… good at making people do what he wanted. He uses people and then throws them away. I know. I get it. I’ve been there. You don’t even realize what he’s doing until he’s already cast you aside. But you’re here now—you know what he’s like, you know what he does. Welcome to Belos’ garbage can, Hunter. You better get used to it here, because Belos isn’t taking you back.”

The door burst open. “Lilith, who are yelling a—”

Lilith whirled around to see her mother standing in the door. She dropped the sack she was carrying and summoned her staff. “YOU!”

“Mother, wait—”

Too late. Her mother practically flew across the room, delivering a flawless blow to Hunter’s gut. He stumbled back, tripping over Belos’ robes and landing on the floor. Lilith’s mother raised the staff again, bringing it down on his head.

“YOU! YOU HURT MY DAUGHTERS!” whack. “YOU HUNT THEM LIKE ANIMALS!” whack. “AND NOW YOU’RE BACK?!” wham. “YOU’RE NOT TAKING MY DAUGHTER AWAY AGAIN, YOU MONSTER!”

Lilith grabbed her mother’s staff before she could hit Hunter again. “Wait, Mother, it’s not what you think! It’s not Belos—it’s the Golden Guard!”

“Please stop hitting me!” Hunter yelped, his arm up to shield himself from any more blows.

“The… Sweet Flea, I’m not sure that’s any better.”

Lilith gently pried her mother’s fingers from her staff. “It’s… complicated, but he’s not working for Belos anymore. Long story short, he needs a place to stay for a bit, and… if it’s okay with you—”

“If it’s okay with you, Lilith, it’s okay with me. If you’re sure he’s not up to anything.”

Hunter’s hands twisting Belos’ robes as he told her he didn’t have anywhere else flashed through her mind, and she nodded. “I’m sure. He’s… just a kid. An annoying one, yes, but.”

“A kid,” her mother sighed, “When I find the real Belos…”

“I’m sure it’ll hurt,” Hunter squeaked from the floor.

“I do apologize for that.”

Lilith hauled Hunter back to his feet. “Alright, alright, let’s find somewhere for you to take a nap, you look awful.”

“I… don’t think a nap is going to fix this.”

Lilith’s mother sloshed a bottle of elixir in one hand. “No, but I know what might help!”

“I… I don’t know. If fixing this curse was that easy, I think Belos would have—”

Mrs. Clawthorn uncorked the bottle and shoved in his mouth while he was talking. “Who said anything about fixing it? Make it manageable, perhaps, if what Edalyn and Lilith have told me is true. Drink your potion and take a nap.”

“It can’t hurt,” Lilith said quietly, “I think.”

Hunter did drink the elixir, then spit the bottle out with a grimace. “Okay, that’s horrible.”

Lilith pulled him upstairs to… Eda’s old room. “Don’t touch her stuff,” she warned, “I’m going to see about getting you something else to wear, you keep tripping on those robes. You should fit into some of my dad’s clothes.”

“Okay. Uh… I… appreciate it, Lilith.”

Lilith froze halfway through the doorway. “Sure,” she managed, “Just… don’t sell me out to Belos.” She quickly shut the door. Her mother was waiting down the hallway.

“What is the story, Lilith?”

Lilith shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “Hunter… he’s been in the Emperor’s Coven since he was a kid. No magic to speak of, but he could do impressive things with a staff. We… never really got along, that’s just the way it was there. We were always competing for Belos’ favor, at each other’s throats to stay on top. Belos… always said that Hunter was special, and that the titan had plans for him. Turns out… that plan was… to steal his body. It was never the Titan’s plan, it was always Belos, planning to get out of his own cursed body.”

“Is there a way to reverse it? To switch them back?”

“I don’t know. Hunter doesn’t seem to remember what happened—it might just be shock, though. Maybe he’ll remember more about what Belos did, and we can reverse this—but we’d probably need his body back, and I’m not sure we’ll be able to find Belos.”

“One problem at a time, Sweet Flea. Let’s focus on getting him settled in, first. How long do you think he’ll need to stay?”

Lilith crossed her arms. “Long enough for me to explain the situation to Edalyn, at least, at which point he’s probably going to ditch us for her.”

“Oh, Lilith. Don’t think like that.”

Lilith glanced back at Eda’s room, making sure the door was still closed. “Actually… I… I don’t think he has that much time left,” she said in a low voice, “Maybe Emperor Belos just was inconvenienced by the curse enough that he decided to make the switch. But… I’m thinking taking over Hunter’s body was an escape plan. For when he got close to… you know.”

Her mother gasped. “You think…”

Lilith folded her arms, hugging herself. “The elixir might hold it off. Give him more time. But… probably not enough time for us to reverse this.”

“We… we can’t just give up, can we?”

“I’m not going to give up,” Lilith promised, “I’ll keep looking. But… I’m just saying that it might be all we can do to make him comfortable before… before the curse finishes what it started and… Hunter dies.”

Ch 2

[ceoofuwu]

𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 ;; 𝘮𝘪𝘺𝘢 𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘶 𝘹 𝘧.𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝟐.𝟏𝐤

𝐀/𝐍: so, this is the first Atsumu scenario! I'd literally give up my life for this man, I CAN'T HOLD BACK. Tho it turned out quite dark... I guess I made amends for it with the happy note in the end, then?

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: living with the Miya twins definitely means throwing party every once in a while and painting the town red... but what if, just once, things spiral out of control?

𝐓.𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ content ahead; mentions of sexual intercourse, unwanted/non-planned pregnancy, cursing. Suggestive themes.

Another wave of nausea washed over your body, making your guts twist with the unpleasant feeling of food hastily gushing out of your body.

You arrested your head further buried in the toilet, hands clutched tightly around the sides, mind flooding with hazy memories of last night’s events, as a stamp of warmth came in contact with your back.

  Sloppy, heated kisses along the sensitive area of your neck were sending shivers through your entire body, which was being ravished by pleasure.

«Come on, baby…» he whispered against your ear, your lobe caught between his teeth, «I’ll be gentle».

  Atsumu rubbed soothing circles on the broad surface of your back, crouched beside your weakened figure, the warmness of his palm eager to drive your fatigue away.

You had been sharing a home with him and his brother for quite some time now, the latter merely staying to keep you company and lend a hand with the loan. Showered with independence as you were, throwing parties every now and then was only natural. However, it wasn’t always completely kept under control.

«Drank too much, didn’t you?» he asked softly, worryingly, while his hand came to gently wipe your mouth with a small-sized towel he had fetched.

«I doubt I drank as much as you did, Tsumu…» you sighed, «… but I still don’t think that’s the proble—« your statement was cut off by your body pushing up another round of fluids.

   Your back arched at the intolerable amount of rapture that was shaking your entire being, «M-more…! Atsumu…!»

«More?» he smirked, looking at you with devilish eyes then throwing your legs over his broad shoulders and thrusting even more forcefully this time, his bare cock hitting spots in depths it had never been before.

   He remained silent the whole time, standing by your side, lightly pulling your hair back and continuing to soothe you with his rubbing patterns, his heart aching at the sight of your body completely cleaning itself out, leaving you fully worn out in its wake.

You lifted yourself slowly, making sure there was no other round coming then snatched the towel out of Atsumu’s hands hastily and wiped the stains of puke clean.

«You were saying…?» he asked, his eyes carefully following your movements to the sink, where you rinsed your mouth out.

«I don’t think it’s only drinking that got me like this…»

«What do you mean?»

«You weren’t particularly cautious last night…»

   You were a complete and utter mess by now; body coated in sweat, quaking with overwhelming ecstasy, burning with the need for more friction, for the touch of your lover, who was mercilessly pounding in and out of you, gaining momentum with every push.

You could feel him twitching inside of you, meaning he was close to his peak, so you were already preparing for the pull out but, with a loud, lengthy groan against your clavicle, you only felt a new-found kind of warmth spreading inside of you instead.

«You feel so damn good baby…» he croaked, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breaths tickling the sensitive area, while he was gradually climbing down from his high.

What with all those surges of bliss washing over you and the influence of alcohol you were under, you didn’t care as much as to realize the severity of what had just happened.

  «You don’t mean…» his voice trailed off, amber eyes widening with surprising realization.

The grave shadow cast upon his face was gone with a mere shrug of his shoulders.

«I do. There’s a high chance, Atsumu».

«I guess we’ll have a little brat crawling around the house in a few months then» he chuckled.

This was one of the few times in your life when you actually couldn’t believe in your ears. He couldn’t be talking seriously. He was deadpanning. Could he be that childish?

«Are you even in your right mind?! Do you happen to have even the slightest idea how serious this is?! What responsibilities it requires?!» you shouted, taking aggressive steps towards him, «How are we supposed to raise a child when you can barely fend for ourselves?» your index daringly poked his chest, look glowing with fury, «What makes you think I’d even want a child growing inside of me, huh?» you spurted out, words dripping with the bitter truth.

«We’re not even 100% sure you’re pregnant» he replied calmly, not allowing the burden of guilt weigh down on him.

«So you’re just going to hang onto a possibility? Is this your way of self-defense?» your tone stayed high on decibels, continuously shooting the blonde with arrows of qualm, but triggering his anger simultaneously.

His thick eyebrows came to a frown, a dark hue of irritation cloaking his face, blood boiling with rage. Deep down, he was well aware of the fact that he had been careless and therefore brought by this outcome, but at the same time he wanted to explode. All this unwavering accusation made him see red; and he didn’t particularly excel at his keeping his temper in check.

He didn’t care about neither your reaction nor the impact his words would have on your already heated argument because he honestly needed anything to fire back, when he spat out:

«It’s not my fault you can’t control what’s going in and out of your cunt».

SLAP!

Your palm clashed with the tender skin of his cheek, the sound of skin finding skin echoing in the empty room. At that point, you genuinely believed that there was no other way to back fire him; he had completely crushed your defenses with that mere line of his. Your heart was shattered to thousand pieces, like a fragile piece of glass thrown madly at the floor.

However, you still had some remaining strength for a finishing blow.

«I should have seen this coming. You always run away from your responsibilities, like the immature toddler you are. You don’t give a fuck about other people’s feelings, do you? All you care about is to feed and satisfy your own, insatiable ego!» you yelled, coming to realize that there are actual tears streaming down your face, but not minding at all the reason for their appearance, «…because that’s just what you are, Atsumu. An immature, egotistical pig».

His almond-shaped eyes widened in shock his body aching with the sensation of something having pierced through his chest. He wanted to yell, curse, break—no, destroy something. His madness was getting the better of him but even so, he somehow stopped dead on his tracks upon hearing that cruel utterance. His stare travelled on your form, inspecting your exhausted state, pity feeling him to the brim. Was this really what you thought of him? Was he truly the one that had you messed up like this?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden opening of the bathroom’s door. His twin brother walked in, wearing an expression of confusion and worry as his grey orbs fell on you.

«I can hear you screaming from the living room… is everything… o… kay? Why are you—« his gaze immediately pinned his brother, «--why is she crying?» he demanded.

Atsumu lowered his head in shame, glancing down at his feet, desperately struggling to avoid his brother’s uncomfortably scrutinizing look. One the one hand he had no clue how he was supposed to explain the situation, but on the other, he couldn’t exactly step back from it.

«Ιt’s… none of your business…» he murmured.

«I don’t think he heard you, Atsumu.           Speak up a little. Tell him how your stupid, little ass fucked everything up again».

«What is she talking about, Tsumu?» Osamu’s facial expression was died in puzzlement, «Talk!»

«…you might become an uncle» he muttered reluctantly between gritted teeth.

«What?!» his look hopped between the two of you impatiently, not landing on anyone in particular.

Of course he was taken aback. How could he not be? Atsumu can be reckless from time to time yet, that seemed too surrealistic even for a person that knew him so well.

You were quite lost in your own concerns, which prevented you from noticing that Osamu had hastily and offensively grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, shaking him furiously.

«I always knew you were a stupid and annoying brother but I was hoping you’d be at least tolerable as a boyfriend!» he shouted in the other twin’s face, knuckles whitening at the tightness of his grip.

You’d usually laugh your heart out whenever the twins were fighting but this time the ambiance was too intense to allow even the slightest curl in your lips.

«We don’t even know if she’s accurately pregnant, you asshole! She hasn’t had a fucking test yet!» Atsumu roared back in exasperation.

Osamu’s features were completely painted with a mixture of bewilderment and realization, «She hasn’t?» his peek drifted to you and you shook your head in the negative.

«Well then…» he let go of his brother with a push, «…I’ll be back» he spoke, turning to leave the room.

«Where the hell are you going?»

«Where you should have gone from the beginning».

Thanks to Osamu, a light smile made its way to your lips. However, it was swiftly taken away by Atsumu’s murderous, disgusted glare. You answered to it with an identical one, not wanting to show him how much your heart was practically broken by that moment.

When he finally walked out of the bathroom, you made sure to lock the door he had harshly slammed behind him, before your body automatically slid against it, eventually collapsing on the floor

«Ugh, why does it take so freaking long?» you whined silently above the pregnancy test.

Before you knew it, your already pallid face was stained with tears once more, your hands rushing to cover your mouth and muffle your perpetual sobs as you succumbed entirely to the pain that was nested in your chest, waves of dejection, wrath and numbness hitting you relentlessly and unstoppably, letting you solely rot into the melancholy of anticipation….

Thankfully, Osamu had came back mere minutes ago with five tests in his hands, all of them produced by the same company. You explained that there was no need for so many, but seemed like Samu had quite freaked out so he couldn’t help himself. You had hastily snatched the tests and run off to the bathroom again, not paying to attention to what Atsumu was doing.

You would deal with him later, either way.

«Don’t be positive, don’t be positive…»

For about ten minutes straight, you were running conspiracies in your mind, attempting to calculate every possible outcome. If Atsumu was indeed the father of your child, then that… made also Osamu a dad? They’re literally the split image of each other so be it biological or adoptive father would practically make no difference. Which meant that if Osamu had kids—

«Are you… alright in here?» the door opened ajar and a familiar head slightly, almost timidly, protruded.

«Oh, now big, scary Atsumu isn’t mad?» you jibed.

Atsumu slid in, gently closing the door behind him and heading towards you.

«Look, I…» his eyes moved to the floor, afraid to encounter yours, «…I didn’t mean what I said… really, I uh…» you failed to suppress a light giggle at his miserable attempt to swallow his pride, «…I’m sorry, okay? Stop mocking me! And I’ll take care of our child…! If we have one, I mean…» you glanced at the test one more time to see if anything had changed and your eyes widened in surprise.

«Atsumu».

«…and I’ll do anything, I’ll cook even without setting the kitchen on fire I—«

«Atsumu!»

“Just don’t be mad at me okay? I’ll even change the baby—«

«ATSUMU!» you yelled, also making awkward hand signals that made no sense to earn his attention.

«What?»

«You won’t have to change any baby! Nor take care of it!»

He lifted his eyebrow in confusion, «We are getting a babysitter?»

«There’s no baby you idiot! I’m not pregnant! I’m not---« a silent sob cut off your sentence.

«Hey, wait, why are you crying?» Atsumu’s hand rested on your flushed cheek, his thumb swiping away a tear that came unbidden on your beautiful face.

«I don’t… know…» you spoke weakly and then immediately dived in his arms, clutching him to the point of asphyxia and probably clawing his back, while burying your wet face on his chest, where you were bawling your eyes out.

«It’s over now baby…» he whispered, planting a soft kiss on the crown of your head and rubbing soothing patterns on your back, «…take it all out».

Deep down, there was still a lingering ray of hope praying that you had actually that unbidden seed inside of you… it wouldn’t be catastrophic…

Hope you enjoyed! Leave a heart, comment, reblog! 💕

[authora97writingupdates]

Okay here's the first look at my new Harry Potter series. I'm trying to make it better than the last time.

Privet Drive was a very upscale neighborhood. Or rather, that’s how the homeowners association wanted it to be seen. They had houses of upper-middle-class proper British families. Copy and pasted houses with copy and pasted lawns, and even more copy and pasted families.

Fathers in these houses on Privet Drive often worked traditional 9-to-5 jobs. In the other cases, they worked respectable jobs. Even the retired men yet to move contributed to the community. You know, at the insistence of that community.

The mothers in each house were homebodies. They tended to their gardens. They managed their children into proper British citizens. There was the occasional wild mother that enjoyed a man’s work or disliked gardening. Or the odd father that enjoyed staying home with the children, taking a proper woman’s role in the house.

The community on Privet Drive talked about those houses. A lot. The gossip piled up alongside the letters in their mailboxes about keeping a brighter garden, or in more proper child management. All those lesser families moved out before long. Often they moved to a nearby neighborhood called DimKeep Lane.

DimKeep Lane had very little in terms of real respectable British families. As it was mostly housed by rejected Privet Drive residents, they were not copied and pasted folks. Many parents worked well enough jobs, some even very respectable even by Privet Drive. But the mother did the job, automatically making them questionable. Gardens were not a requirement, children even less so.

48 DimKeep Lane held a very unique family called the Lafayette’s. They had no garden. The family was...

That mother was...

The father Mr Lafayette was...

Oh, but who could forget those twin girls? Twins daughters that were just barely old enough for school. A pair of black-haired babbling girls who were just the cutest! Also most mysterious. At any time, the Lafayette girls were found running and playing outside.

The younger sister, Darcy, was the more bold twin. Always with dirt scrapes on her knees or elbows. Lucky for their mother that Darcy hated wearing dresses, or she would always be washing out the grass stains. Darcy often wore basic shirts and jean shorts with tiny trainers in only the brightest shades. The girl played rough with the boys, unafraid of getting hurt or of hurting others.

That’s where her elder sister came into play. Morgan Lafayette usually played with or around her sister. Morgan looked very similar- their only true outer difference being eye color and hairstyles. Morgan’s amber eyes versus Darcy’s deep indigo, Morgan’s twisted black curls and waves versus Darcy’s iron straightness. Morgan tended to dress in shirts and shorts too, occasionally deciding to wear a darker scheme.

Parents went to that child, telling her about Darcy’s antics, or about fun local parties for the family to bring food. Some parents questioned why they weren’t looking for Mr or Mrs. Lafayette before immediately forgetting that question. How confounding! Morgan pulled Darcy back from all fights, worked out peace, then threw Darcy back. Many parents were impressed at the maturity!

Morgan still got into fights. They were few and far between. Usually involved with children taller than Morgan being- to put it bluntly- assholes. Ah, to be a child again! The parents of DimKeep Lane laughed.

The girls were finally attending school. Specifically St. Grogory’s Primary School for Year 1.

The teachers were happy to accept them. Rather, they barely noticed two more children but they were happy to meet the Lafayette Twins.

Morgan and Darcy went to their first day of school with little fanfare. To be clear, fanfare happened, just not to them. Other children cried and screamed, their parents cried too. None of them wished to part ways with their parents. Some kids cried because school sounded boring.

Dudley Dursley, for example. A fat whale of a child even at age 5. He screamed and yelled about the stupid school. They wouldn’t let him watch the telly or eat candy. Petunia Dursley tried to keep his spirits up with promises of toys and his friends being there, but nothing calmed her little Diddykins down.

Her second child stayed silent just behind her. If you ever called this child her’s, Petunia’s face would shrivel like she’d eaten a bad lemon. This child was not hers nor ever would be. Little better than a freak, her nephew knew his place waiting silently behind proper respectable people.

Said boy was currently 1/10 his cousin’s size, and that’s being generous to his cousin. Clothes hung off his skin, ones that clearly had never been worn by Dudley but belonged in a rubbish bin. The glasses on his head- round and black- were already being held together by tape. His black hair was wilder than the sobbing Dudley, barely covering a giant lightning bolt-shaped scar on his head.

Harry watched the other children, curious. His aunt and uncle told him his parents died, too drunk and worthless to care for him. As he saw other children crying and their parents hugging them, Harry wondered if his parents might have done the same.

Naturally, with so little to do, Harry looked over at the collection of toys out for a distraction. He saw the two children already parted from their parents. Only a pair of twins. One playing happily with big thick building blocks, one reading a book from the shelf.

He walked over to them. Morgan glanced at him from over her book. Darcy kept playing with her blocks. Harry sat beside Morgan, peeking at her book.

“It’s about a place that has raining food.” Morgan explained. Harry tilted his head. “My book. It’s about that.”

“How?” Harry asked.

Morgan hummed, thoughtful.

“Magic.” Darcy pushed another block in place, making something like a castle.

“Or maybe science.” Morgan replied.

“Definitely magic.” Darcy argued. “I wanna have magic food!”

“No way.” Morgan dismissed. “Magic can’t make something out of nothing.”

“Then it uses water! I don’t know.” Darcy huffed. She grabbed another block.

“What do you think?” Morgan asked the new playmate.

Harry stared.

Morgan stared back. Darcy snickered. “About my book.”

“You-” Harry shifted on his spot. “You’re askin’ me?”

“Yeah. What do you think?” Morgan asked again.

Nobody ever asked Harry a question before. Usually, Harry asked the questions. The Dursley’s always yelled at him to shut up. Aunt Petunia loved to tell him to not ask questions. Nobody wanted Harry to talk more. Harry loved the feeling.

“...magic.” Harry answered. He pointed at the odd rain. “That’s spaghetti.”

“It is.” Morgan nodded. “I like spaghetti. Do you?”

“I like bowtie noodles.” Darcy cheered.

Harry shifted again.

“It’s okay to not like spaghetti. I don’t like meatballs.” Morgan assured Harry. “Darcy hates the curly kind.”

“The curly colorful kind!” Darcy corrected. “It’s different colors but not flavors! That’s stupid.”

“I like spaghetti.” Harry pointed at the picture. “Yummy.”

Morgan and Darcy smiled.

The other children stopped crying as they talked. Parents successfully distracted them with the promise of toys or friendship, or even getting one of the teachers to help distract the kindergartener. One child held out, screaming about useless school and wanting to go home.

Petunia bribed him with more sweets- something the teachers discouraged. Still, the candy got Dudley to focus on something else. He enjoyed the treat as Petunia ran off, crying herself. Oh to leave behind her precious baby!

The candy soon vanished. Dudley looked around the play area for something. He saw his best friend. He also saw his favorite person to antagonize and a bunch of toys that would suit his idea.

Morgan turned a page in her book.

“You can read?” Harry asked.

Morgan nodded. Darcy snickered again.

“Morgan reads all the time.” Darcy explained. She moved her block castle to the side, letting her add extensions. “Like a nerd.”

“What’s a nerd?” Harry asked. “Is it like a freak?” He hadn’t understood the word at all. He just knew the tone Darcy used- a disgust like when the Dursleys called him a freak.

Morgan tensed. “I’m not a freak. Reading doesn’t make me a freak, it just makes me smart. Darcy’s mad I don’t wanna play.”

“It’s why we’re here.” Darcy replied.

Morgan glared at her sister. Darcy went back to the blocks.

“No freak?” Harry asked again.

Morgan shook her head. “Do you like to read?”

Harry shrugged. “Don’t know how.”

“That’s okay.” Morgan started using her finger to follow the words. “The pictures work fine.”

Harry, for one of the first times since coming to Privet Drive, smiled.

Dudley stormed up. Piers Polkiss at his side, sneering at the two ungirly girls and the pathetic orphan boy.

“Do you mind?” Darcy asked. “We’re busy here.”

Dudley kicked the blocks down. Harry watched, frowning at another toy lost to his cousin. Morgan and Darcy stood up, glaring at the fat boy.

“Stupid!” Dudley yelled. “That’s a boy’s toy! Not one for stupid girls!”

Darcy leaned towards her sister. Harry couldn’t hear what was asked, only seeing Morgan shake her head. Darcy rolled her eyes, glaring harder.

“Okay.” Morgan sat back down. She picked up the book, showing it to Harry. “We had spaghetti on Saturday. It had long noodles and red sauce.”

On Saturday, Harry ate old crusty bread that Dudley threw away. Literally. Dudley had thrown it against the wall. Harry ate it, then cleaned up the smudge on the wall.

Darcy sat down, leaning against her sister.

Dudley got annoyed that the other children ignored him. “Hey! Gimme blocks!” He yanked a block up, throwing it at Darcy’s head.

Morgan caught it. She stared at the fat boy and his friend. Somehow, Dudley saw something that Harry did not. Something that made Dudley want to get as far away from Morgan as possible. A latent survival instinct, if you want.

Instead, Dudley grabbed another block to throw at Morgan’s head.

See, as a child, Dudley expected that Morgan would be unable to catch it. She already held another block and a book. Her arms were full. She surely could not take another item.

Morgan dropped the first block. She caught the second. All before anything touched her face.

Darcy snickered, still on Morgan’s shoulder.

Harry watched, awestruck.

Dudley went for a third block. Piers grabbed two, ready to throw at all the black-haired kids. They threw with a force that all children considered lethal.

Morgan raised the book, using its hardcover as a shield for herself and Harry. Darcy ducked behind her sister, two blocks in her hands.

Harry could hear Darcy whispering now.

“Can I do it now?” Darcy hissed.

“No.” Morgan replied another wave of blocks hit the book. “But save it for later.”

Darcy saluted.

Dudley reached over. He snatched the book out of Morgan’s hands. The book pages tore under Dudley’s grip. Dudley threw the book on the ground. For good measure, he stomped on it.

The twins stared. Harry frowned.

Darcy reached forward. She held Morgan’s shoulder, holding the girl back.

Dudley threw another block.

Harry moved, blocking the twins’ body with his own. The block hit him. Harry was horrifically used to it.

By then, the teachers finally noticed the two boys throwing blocks at defenseless children. They rushed to the aid of the smaller ones. Lucky for them, classes need to start anyway.

But that little brave act...To them, it was enough. It may not be clobbering a troll…actually yeah it kinda was- point is, it made a strong friendship between the three children.

[isolavirtuosa]

Maybe 1-5

[fanfiction] Dean/Castiel

Canon Compliant Coda

One minute I was sitting on the porch, having a beer with Bobby, and the next I was standing in the bunker next to an equally confused-looking Sam.

Parts 1-5

- 1 -

  One minute I was sitting on the porch, having a beer with Bobby, and the next I was standing in the bunker next to an equally confused-looking Sam.

“What the hell, Sammy,” I grumbled, staring at the once-familiar wall of the dungeon in front of us.

“I have no idea,” Sam said, brows furrowing.

“Dad?”

We both whirled around, my hand going for a gun that was long since gone.

“Dean?” Sam said, but the tone was all wrong.  That wasn’t how he said my name.

“Dad?” the man repeated.  He was tall, with brown hair that was longer than it needed to be, and it was obvious enough even for those of us who had no idea what was going on.

“This is Junior?” I asked Sam’s back as he was already moving to wrap his son in a hug.

The hug went on for a lot longer than I thought was necessary, and then my brother was turning around and gesturing to me with a warm smile.  “This is your Uncle Dean.”

“Hey,” Dean Junior said, his eyes a little wide.

Apparently my reputation preceded me.  “Hey yourself,” I responded, swaggering over to him.

I was suddenly wrapped in a very tight hug.

“Um, I guess you’re a hugger,” I said, patting his back awkwardly for a moment before finally just giving in to hugging my only nephew.

Sam was grinning like an idiot.

“I can’t believe you’re both here,” Dean breathed as he pulled away.  “I mean, it worked.”

“Um, what exactly is it that worked?” Sam asked.

“Castiel’s spell,” he said, like that explained perfectly why my brother and I had been ripped out of heaven and brought back to earth.

“Wait, Cass is-” I started to say, even as Castiel was slipping out of the shadows.

“Hello, Sam,” he said, nodding at my brother.  He paused, looking at me meaningfully.  “Dean.”

“Cass!” Sam said, and then there was even more unnecessary hugging.  He squeezed Castiel tightly, and when he let him go, he turned an expectant glance on me.

I stared pointedly at the wall.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why we’ve brought you here,” Castiel began to say.

“What’s up with you two?” Sam asked, gesturing between us.

“Nothing,” I said, which was swallowed up by Castiel’s very loud declaration that, “Dean is uncomfortable about my homosexual feelings towards him.”

“Wait, what?” Sam said, squinting at me.

“Cass, you know that’s not true,” I ground out, annoyed.

“Angels have sexual preferences?” Dean asked, scratching at his stubble.  “I kind of thought you were all asexual.”

“We mostly lack human desires,” Castiel agreed.  “Of course, some angels have-”

“Nobody needs a lesson on the sexual exploits of angels,” I interrupted him.

“I think I might,” Dean said, looking genuinely perplexed.  “I mean, all these years, and I never once…  But I guess now that I’ve heard it out loud, it’s starting to…  Yeah, I mean, Castiel talks about you a lot.  A lot a lot.  And he gets this soft expression on his face, and-”

“‘All these years?’” I repeated slowly, feeling my face harden even more.  “You’ve been helping Junior out for years?” I asked Castiel angrily.

“Other Dean needed my help-”

“Great, Cass, just great, so glad you could be there for him,” I said.  “Can we just move on to the part where you explain why the hell we’re here, and then get us back to fucking heaven where we belong?”

Castiel breathed out heavily, his lower lip sticking out slightly.

It was a ridiculous expression that looked completely out of place on his face, and I wanted to tell him so, but…

“You were not exaggerating,” Dean marveled to Sam, still staring at me in awe.

I was starting to wonder what exactly my brother had told my namesake about me.  “I need a beer,” I decided, throwing the dungeon door open and making my way towards the kitchen.

“Wow, look what the cat dragged in.”

At first the woman sitting with her boots kicked up on the table was unrecognizable.  Her gray hair flowed around her face in curls, wrinkles etched across a face with surprisingly youthful-looking blue eyes.

“…Claire…?” I asked incredulously.

She grinned at me.

“How are you still alive?” I asked, still trying to process this elderly woman as the young girl I’d last seen.

“Some of us are actually good at hunting,” she said with a smirk and a twinkle in her eyes.

I didn’t know what to do with that.  “I need a beer,” I decided, disappearing into the kitchen.

“Grab one for me!” Claire called after me.

“Can elderly people drink?” I replied, digging through the fridge and pulling out two tall bottles which were hopefully beer, the brand name unrecognizable to me.

“We can drink Dean Winchester under the table!” she called, a laugh in her voice.

I returned with the bottles, and Claire accepted hers, taking a long drink.

“That hits the spot after a long day of raising assholes from the dead,” she declared.

I sat next to her, running my fingers over the names etched into the table.  There were more now, covering the table from end-to-end.

“We decided the table had a nice nostalgic vibe to it,” she said, before nodding her head around the room.  “Updated everything else from the prehistoric nonsense you had in here before, though.”

There were screens and flashing lights everywhere.  It seemed pretty fucking awful to me, but hopefully whatever fool’s errand had brought us back here would be over and done with quickly.

Claire finished her beer, letting the empty bottle hit the table with a loud clink.  “I guess that’s an okay start, but you’re gonna need to keep ‘em comin’.”

“Slow down, grandma, I don’t want to have to pick you up off of the floor.”

She snorted.  “How the fuck old do you think I am?”

“I don’t know, a hundred?”

She laughed even harder.  “Oh, god, you are precious.  I am the picture of youth and vitality.  You like music from the freaking 1970s and dress like an elderly lumberjack.”

I touched my flannel shirt self-consciously.

“And Jimmy certainly made a choice with that body,” she said, looking me up and down, and grinning madly.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked irritably.  “…and also, ‘Jimmy’?”

“That’s just my nickname for Castiel,” she said, ignoring the rest of my question.  “It’s an inside joke, and there’s pretty much no one left alive who gets it anymore.”

“So you two have gotten close?”

“Well, I mean, we’re not having constant crises that require heavenly intervention like back in the Winchester days, but yeah, Jimmy’s always here to bail us out when things get rough.”

“Fucking fantastic,” I said, downing the rest of my beer.

“Oh my god, you really are mad,” she marveled at me.

“What am I mad about?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“That Jimmy looooooves you,” she swooned at me.

“You know what, you’re right,” I said, standing up.  “You’re not elderly at all, you’re twelve.”

“Takes one to know one,” Claire cackled at my retreating back as I took the glass bottles back to the kitchen.

There was a loud bustling back in the other room, signaling that the others had finally come up to join us.

Everyone stared at me expectantly as I came back into the room.  I looked at them blankly, handing Claire another beer and opening my own.

“So, did Claire fill you in about Temeluchus…?” Sam asked.

“Who in the what now?” I asked, taking a drink and specifically not looking at Castiel.

“And how the Michael sword and the Lucifer sword are the only way to seal him…?” Sam asked.

“That sounds like a pain in the ass.”

“They need our blood-” Sam continued.

“You know, I really don’t need the details,” I said.  “Tell me what to do, we save the world, we go back.  Right?”

“Right,” Castiel confirmed.

“Okay then,” I said.  “Let’s save the world.”

 - 2 -

  They put us in the guest room that night.

“Being alive is weird,” I decided, studying the back of my hand.  “You gotta piss and shit and sleep…”

“And alcohol actually gets you drunk?” Sam suggested from the twin bed next to mine.

“Well, that part’s not so bad,” I said, letting my hand drop to my stomach.  “I could get into that part.”

“Maybe if you pray to Jack, he’ll let you get drunk in heaven, too.”

“Don’t need to be drunk in heaven.”

Sam sighed.  “It’s weird for me, too, you know.  To be back here.”

“I was never here.”

I heard him breathe in sharply at that, almost like a flinch of pain.

“And that’s okay,” I continued.  “I did my part, then my story was over.”

“We always felt you with us.”

“…Sammy, that is some new agey bullcrap.”

“It doesn’t make it less true.”

“So Cass helped you on cases.”

“That’s a bit of a non-sequitur.”

“Is it?” I asked, mostly because I didn’t know what a non-sequitur was.

“Well, I guess we were talking about our feelings, and then you brought up Cass, so actually, no, I do see where you’re coming from,” Sam decided.

“We were not talking about our feelings,” I said, offended.

“Of course not,” Sam replied in that patronizing way of his.  “Manly men don’t have feelings.”

“Damn straight.”

“So about your best friend Cass…”

“Did you want us to braid each other’s hair and exchange friendship bracelets?” I grumbled.

“I was thinking about more maybe just actually having a conversation…?” Sam suggested.  “Seriously, Dean, what is going on between you two?”

“Nothing,” I muttered.

“Oh, yeah, sure, okay.”

The smart play would be to not respond to Sam’s sarcasm, and just let the conversation die.

Sam sighed loudly.

I ignored him.

He sighed again.

I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep.

There was the sound of movement from Sam’s bed, which was the only warning I got before something crashed into my chest.

The smart play would be to just hold the pillow hostage and continue to ignore him.

Unfortunately, Sam knew that I could never possibly ignore such an obvious affront.

I threw the pillow back at him as hard as possible.

He was sitting up now, and caught it with a grunt.  “Dean, is this really…  I mean, you’re not actually bothered that Cass has feelings for you, right?”

“Of course I don’t care,” I growled, but I could already feel the anger dissipating.  Somehow I’d gotten better at letting go of things.  “I mean, of course I care.  About Cass.  About… whatever.  Feelings and shit.  I just… he dropped that bomb at me, and then he left.”

“He didn’t really leave so much as die…”

“He didn’t come back, Sammy.”

“He’s right here, Dean.  In the next room.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.  He’s here on earth.  He’s helping Junior.  He’s bonding with Claire.  He was even freaking helping you on cases before you moved on.”

Sam put his pillow down and seemed to lean forward, straining to see me in the dark.  “Dean, what are you saying?  Have you not seen Cass since he was taken by the Empty?”

“You just figured that out?”

“Wait, not even once?”

“He came once.”

“Okay…?”

“A little after you moved on,” I said, lying back down.  I closed my eyes again.

“…and did something happen?” Sam prodded me when I didn’t go on.

“Hello, Dean.”

My head was under the Impala’s hood, and his sudden appearance startled me so much I shot up and banged my head.  “Shit!  Ow!”

“I, uh… apologies…” Castiel trailed off, looking at me uncertainly.

“It’s fine, you just surprised me,” I said, straightening up and taking my hand from my aching head.  “You’re… here.”

“Yes, that is where I am,” he agreed.

I stared at him.

He stared back.

It felt like just yesterday that I’d last seen him, yet it felt like a hundred years ago.

Time moved differently in heaven.

“You look well,” Castiel finally said, breaking the silence.

“Being dead does that for a guy,” I said, trying to be glib.  Trying to break up the tension.

“It’s certainly true that a human can choose their favored appearance in heaven,” he said.

We weren’t saying anything that mattered.

“Dean, are you angry with me?” he asked, easily picking up on my frustration.

“Why would I be angry with you?” I replied, shaking my head.

“I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he said, his head bowed slightly.

“Kinda, yeah,” I agreed.

“I’ll go.”

“What the hell, Cass.”

He forced a smile at me.  “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” I said, the anger rising in my voice.

“It’s okay, I understand.”

“What exactly is it that you understand, because I don’t get you at all right now.”

He looked at me.

“Cass,” I said looking back.  I felt like something I hadn’t even realized was missing was suddenly right in front of me, but I couldn’t reach it.

“This isn’t how it usually goes,” he said after a pause.

“How what goes?”

“Us,” he said, gesturing between us.

“Then stop being so damn awkward.”

“I could say the same to you.”

“How am I being awkward?”

“Well, usually after I sacrifice myself for you, you say something like, ‘Cass, you are not dead, I am very pleased’, followed by a customary embrace in which you try not to show me your emotional face by making the embrace unnaturally long in order to get control of yourself.”

I tried to protest that, but all I could do was open and close my mouth like a fish.

“I understand if physical proximity is… no longer appropriate,” he continued.

“For Christ’s sake, can we just forget about what you said and go back to normal?” I asked irritably.

Cass’s expression hardened.  “No, Dean, we will not forget about what I said.”

I sighed.  “That’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t it though?”

“Whatever, Cass,” I said, turning my back on him and going back under the hood.  We both needed to take a step back or this was just going to keep on getting stupider.

And then he fucking left.

“Dean?” Sam prodded me.

“Just Cass being Cass,” I said, waving it off.  “He makes stupid assumptions about things.”

“Does he?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” I growled at him.

“So you’re not being a homophobic dick about him telling you that he loves you?”

“You know me better than that,” I complained.

“I know you well enough to know that feelings make you uncomfortable,” he said.  “Especially things you have no experience with.”

I clicked my tongue in annoyance.

“Cass said these bodies will only stay bonded to our souls for three days,” he said.  “All I’m saying is that maybe before we go back to heaven, you should figure your shit out.”

“Maybe you should figure your shit out,” I grumbled back at him.

“My shit is very figured, thanks.”

I rolled my eyes, but it was true.  My little brother had it together.  “Junior seems competent.”

“Yeah, he can hold his own,” Sam said, and I could hear the beaming dad-pride in his voice.

“I’m glad I could finally meet him,” I said, continuing down this little rabbit hole so we didn’t have to talk about me anymore.

“Me, too.”

“Hey, Claire got old, though, huh?”

“Dean, we all got old,” he scoffed at me.

“Yeah, but…” I started to say, hesitating.  “Claire just… always reminded me a lot of me, you know?  Didn’t know if she would…”

“She changed a lot after Kaia came back,” Sam put in quickly.  We never lingered too long over that kind of talk, no matter how much heaven had chilled us out.

“Did she?”

“Yeah,” he said.  “Started hunting smarter.  Hunting less.  Making time for a life.”

“Good for her,” I said softly.  She’d figured it out before it was too late.

We were both quiet with our own thoughts after that, and eventually I remembered how to sleep.

 - 3 -

  “Hell no,” I said emphatically.

“Dean, no one uses gas-powered cars anymore,” Sam said, rolling his eyes at me.

We all stood in the garage, staring at the monstrosity that these hunters dared to call a ‘car’.  It was some froufrou, electric-powered nonsense, and there was no way I was getting in that thing.

“Impala or I walk.”

“The Impala hasn’t run in twenty years,” Dean Junior said.

“What did you do to my baby?” I asked, mortified.

“It’s a fucking old car, Grandpa,” Claire taunted me.  “They break down.”

While Claire and I stood there arguing, everyone else climbed into the monstrosity, with Junior and Sam in the front and the angel in the back.

“Looks like they’re leaving without you,” Claire said unhelpfully.

I clenched my jaw.

“You coming, Uncle Dean?” Junior asked, leaning out the window and giving me a shit-eating grin worthy of the Winchester name.

“Move over, chuckles, I’m driving,” I growled, stomping over to them.

“It’s a self-driving car, Dean,” Sam said, showing exactly where his son got that damn grin.

“Then I call shotgun,” I said, glaring at the two of them.

“Sorry, rules are rules, and Dad already called shotgun,” Dean said with a shrug.

I looked at them.

I looked at Castiel sitting in the back.

I looked back at them.

I focused on Sam.

He shrugged, unable to stop giving me that grin.

I sighed loudly.

“I can teleport there,” Castiel said, looking like some kicked puppy.

“Cass, no,” Sam said immediately, at the same time as Dean protested, “we need your help with the spell before we get there.”

And I looked like the jackass again.  “It’s fine,” I said, opening the door and getting in beside Castiel.

“Have fun, boys,” Claire said, waving to us as the car started to move out of the garage.

Castiel sat ramrod straight next to me, eyes forward.

I wanted things to be right between us again, I just had no idea where to start, and it certainly wasn’t going to happen with Nosy and Nosier sitting in the front.  “Do these joke machines have tunes?” I asked instead.

Sam groaned, slumping back against his seat, while Dean looked over his shoulder to give me a huge grin.  “I’ve got the perfect playlist.”

The familiar guitar riff of Ramble On suddenly filled the car.

“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy!” I said, hitting the back of Sam’s seat excitedly.  “Is your son a Zeppelin fan?!”

“Don’t remind me,” Sam said, and I could feel his eye roll even though I was behind him.

“Dad had all your old tapes in the Impala,” Dean said, drumming his fingers against the console.  “We used to just drive and drive, listening to them on repeat.”

For some reason, that put a lump in my throat.

“Of course, then he would plug his phone in and make us listen to old crap like Deathcab For Cutie…” Dean continued.

I cracked up.  “Did he follow it up with some Celine Dion?”

“That was his freaking wedding song,” Dean said, making me laugh harder.

“So hilarious,” Sam grumbled.  “…The Power of Love is a damn good song,” he added under his breath.

“Looks like Junior is more Winchester than Sammy,” I said, patting my nephew on the shoulder and feeling pleased.

The next hour passed very pleasantly with me and Dean belting out classic rock while Sam pretended that he hated it.

At some point I glanced over at Cass, and he was looking at me softly, smiling like a creep.  He immediately looked away when he realized he’d been caught.

I continued singing, but I bumped my knee lightly against his.

He looked surprised, but then he smiled again, so I figure that was a good enough olive branch for the time being.

Of course, the longer we drove, the harder it was to ignore how fucking weird the world had gotten.

“You can’t even enjoy the road anymore,” I complained, watching as we passed an endless line of self-driving cars in yet another underground tunnel.  “The open air, your hand on the wheel…”

“As you did not typically allow others to drive, I don’t think we really experienced any difference in the transition to driver-less,” Castiel said, speaking for the first time.

“Ha,” Sam said.

Cass glanced nervously at me, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to make jokes anymore.

“Shut up, smartass,” I said, smacking him in the arm.

He looked relieved, but that kind of pissed me off.  Why did he think he had to walk on eggshells with me?  Why couldn’t he just be normal?  Was I really so awful to him?

“How about we stop and get some food?” I suggested, ready for a change of scenery.

That also turned out to be a terrible idea.

“Why are the burgers not made of meat?” I asked Sam, low and threatening.

“It’s better for the environment,” he explained.  “And for your health.”

“Samuel,” I said, my voice getting lower.  “I will have my meat.”

“Having a tofu burger just this once won’t kill you.”

“Yes, I think it will,” I said, jabbing my finger into his ridiculously broad chest.

“Dean, we need to meet Mellie and Rowena tonight, so we don’t really have time for this,” Sam tried to explain to me logically.

“I already rode around in your abomination of a vehicle all day, and now you’re telling me that I need to eat a… t-to…” I tried to get the word out, but it stuck in my throat.

“I’ll go pick up the food since none of you have any money,” Dean said, getting out of the car and moving towards the so-called burger joint.

“You bring me a real burger, kid, you hear me?” I called after him.

“I’m older than you, Uncle Dean!” he called back.

Sam followed after him, laughing.

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” I grumbled, getting back inside the vehicle.  “I’ve lived longer than the brat, even if my body is… however old it is.”

“Thirty-nine,” Castiel said.

“That’s oddly specific.”

“Yes, well I had to choose which template of you two to form,” he said.  “I thought the time we spent fathering Jack together when he was a baby was nice, so I went with those bodies.”

“When Jack was a baby…”

“Yes, before he lost his soul,” Castiel said.

“You are so… you,” I decided.

“Yes, that is who I am.”

“You were… happy then?”

“Yes, very,” Castiel said.  “I was able to become a father and raise my son with his other two fathers.”

“I don’t think that’s how biology works.”

“How would you know?” he scoffed at me.

My jaw dropped and all I could do was stare at him, wide-eyed.  “Are you calling me stupid?”

“A little bit, yes.”

“Asshole,” I said, but I was smiling anyway.

Castiel looked pleased with himself, which made me feel… something I didn’t want to think about.

“So baby grows up and you leave the other two fathers behind?” I asked, deciding to pick a fight instead.  “No, wait, it was only the one father that you cut out of your life.”

“Dean,” he said, sounding weary.

“Oh, no, Cass, it’s totally cool that you decided to move on with your life and never talk to me again.”

“Dean Winchester, I did no such thing,” he said, his tone starting to get angrier.  “You are the one who didn’t want me around.”

“And how exactly did you arrive at that conclusion?” I asked him incredulously.

“You didn’t pray to me.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked.  “I didn’t know that I had to pray to the holy and powerful angel of the Lord Castiel to get him to deign to come and see me.”

“Prayer has never been like that between us,” he said, frowning.  “It’s our way of communicating long distance.  I treasure the prayers you send to me.”

“So that’s why you didn’t answer me all those times,” I grumbled shittily.

“If anyone can understand putting duty over matters of the heart…”

“So it was your duty to take care of Sammy and Junior… and Claire… and who the fuck knows who else… but not me?”

“Yes, Dean, that is correct,” Castiel said, blue eyes lasering into mine.  He opened his mouth to say something else, when the door to the car flew open.

“I’ve got burgers,” Dean Junior declared, getting into the car and tossing a paper bag to Castiel.

It bounced off his chest and slid to the floor.

Cass did not react.

“Uh, am I interrupting something?” Dean asked, looking between us leerily.

“No,” I said, at the same time that Castiel said, “yes.”

“You two were actually talking?” Sam asked, sliding into his own seat and passing me a bag.

“No,” I grumbled, digging through the bag and pulling out my burger.

“Yes,” Castiel said contrarily, still ignoring his food on the floor.

I unwrapped my burger and took a big bite.  I chewed thoughtfully.  There was something… different…  I looked at Sam in horror as a flash lit up the backseat.  My eyes shifted to Dean, who was looking pointedly forward as the car pulled out from the rest stop.  “Dean Junior.”

“Yes, Uncle Dean?”

“Dean Junior, you and I haven’t known each other long.”

“Less than a day,” he agreed.

“Less than a day,” I said.  “And in that day, I haven’t asked for much, have I?”

“Well, you wanted to ride around in a busted gas guzzler-”

“Dean Junior, I haven’t asked for much,” I repeated.  “As you may know, I died about fifty years ago, for about the… two hundredth and final time, after sacrificing my life to save the world so many goddamn times.”

“Dad did mention that, yeah.”

“So many goddamn times,” I repeated.  “And yet, I am a simple man.”

Cass snorted at that.

“Some might even say you are a meat man,” Sam put in.

Cass flat out chortled at that.

“Interesting that you mention that, Sam,” I said.  “Interesting that you mention my know predilection for meat products, when you have schemed here with your son to bring me this faux meat bullshit.”

“Yeah, okay, but the look on your face,” Sam explained, holding up Dean’s holophone and showing the picture of my mortified-looking face as I held the offending ‘burger’ away from me.

“Dean Junior, tell me the truth,” I said, eyes boring into my namesake’s.  “Were you talked into this by your embarrassingly uncreative father who knows nothing of true pranks and hijinks?”

“I was,” he said solemnly.  “Dad promised it would be hilarious.”

“And was it hilarious?” I asked.

“I mean, you just made this whole ridiculous speech, so I’m going to have to say yes?”

“Oh, Dean Junior,” I said, shaking my head.  “You know nothing.”

“I’m pretty sure everyone thought it was hilarious, Dean,” Sam put in, gesturing between Castiel and Dean, who did in fact look like they thought it was hilarious.

“Simpletons,” I said, shaking my head.  “I have been gone too long.  But don’t worry.  You will remember.”

Sam was looking at me like I was crazy.

“Now where is my goddamn burger?” I asked, shoving the tofu burger back in its bag and throwing it at Sam.

“On the floor,” he said, nodding his head towards Castiel’s bag.

“Jackass,” I grumbled, picking the bag up.

“Like Cass would have eaten it,” Sam said with a shrug.

“Molecules,” Castiel agreed.

I unwrapped it and took a big bite, only to see that damn flash in my face again.  “You motherfucker,” I said, throwing the tofu burger at Sam’s head and sticking the landing.

“Childish much?” Sam said, grinning like a loon.

“My revenge will be all-consuming,” I said, slumping back in my seat and crossing my arms over my chest.  “All-consuming.”

“Mm-hm,” Sam said, flipping through the pictures on the phone and laughing to himself.

 - 4 -

  “Dean.”

I woke up with a start, breathing in through my nose sharply.  My head rested against something hard and unyielding, but somehow familiar and warm.

I was drooling on Cass’s trenchcoat.

“If you do not mind,” he said, looking at me uncomfortably and holding his body stiffly, trying to keep himself as far away from me as possible.

“Shit,” I muttered, shooting back up to a sitting position.  “What, am I that repulsive to you?”

“Dean, you were drooling.”

“And you loved every second of it.”

Castiel looked startled, then frowned.

I groused and rubbed the sleep from my eyes.  “We almost there?”

“About an hour out,” Sam said from the front.  “Maybe a little less if traffic is light.”

“Great,” I said, staring out the window at the endless tunnels.  The future sucked.

We finally pulled into our seedy motel, which was a lot shinier and more electronic than I remembered seedy motels being, and then there was Mellie, standing out in the parking lot with a cock to her hip and a grin on her face.

“Hey, boys,” she said, waving us over.

“Mellie,” Dean Junior said, giving her a quick hug.

“Sam Winchester, is that you?” she asked, looking my brother up and down in amusement.

“It’s me,” Sam said, holding his arms out to her.

“Damn, my mom never told me how hot you were when you were younger,” she said, throwing her arms around him enthusiastically.

“Er…” he trailed off, patting Mellie’s back awkwardly.

“That must be difficult for Sam’s ego, as he has always believed himself to be hot,” Castiel murmured.

I cracked up, turning to grin at him.

Cass gave me a pleased look.

I forgot how much he was pissing me off for a moment and slung my arm around his shoulder, leaning in close to his ear.  “So who the hell is this chick again?”

“Mellie Hanscom,” Cas explained.

“No shit?  She’s Donna’s kid?”

“Perhaps in human years she would be considered an adult female.”

“I got that, Cass, thank you,” I said, patting his chest as I pushed away and moved towards the other three.  “Hey there, Mellie,” I said, giving her my best Dean Winchester smoulder.

“Hi,” she said, smiling back before turning to Sam.  “So this is your little brother?”

Sam’s lips twitched into a smile.  “My older brother, yeah.”

“Oh,” Mellie said with a slight frown.  “I thought he’d be taller.”

“Is this Shit on Dean Day?” I asked no one in particular.

“You sounded taller in my mom’s stories,” she clarified.

“He has always been this short,” Sam said helpfully.

“Everyone besides the Jolly Green Giant here is shorter than me,” I said incredulously.

“Why is Dad green…?” Dean asked, rubbing his stubble and looking genuinely perplexed.

“I don’t get it,” Mellie agreed.

“Dean, they don’t understand your references, either,” Castiel commented, pleased.

“Everyone knows who the freakin’ Jolly Green Giant is!” I said, exasperated.

“Yes, the large green man in a leaf toga who makes canned corn,” he said, nodding his head thoughtfully.

Everyone had their laugh at my expense and then we finally got down to business.

“We summon Rowena, she does the Rite of Blood, and that starts preparing your bodies for the final ritual,” Mellie explained as she wrote a sigil on the door in her blood.

“Just tell me where to stand,” I said, not really thinking too much about all the blood and the letting of it in preparation to remove mine.

“Anywhere’s fine,” Mellie said, smiling at me cheerfully as she wiped her hands clean on a motel towel.

“We ready?” Dean asked.  When he received an affirmative, he started chanting in Latin.

“This is so boring,” I commented to Sam after about five minutes of it.

“This used to be our lives,” Sam said, giving me a rueful smile.

“Was it?” I asked, shaking my head.  “Man, I cannot wait to get back home.”

“Yeah…” Sam said.  “It’s been good to see Dean, though.  To have you two meet.”

“He’ll be with us before you know it,” I said with a shrug.

“That should sound ominous, but it’s weirdly comforting,” he said, scrunching up his face in confusion.

“Hello, boys.”

We both looked back towards the door where Rowena now stood in all her hellish glory.

“Mellie, Wee Dean, lovely of you to orchestrate this reunion,” she said, passing by them and pinching Dean on the cheek before slapping Mellie on the butt.

“I don’t understand any of these relationships…” I said.

“My, Samuel, this is certainly an improvement over the dour old man bit you had going on before,” Rowena hummed, squeezing Sam’s bicep.  “Now what say you we start this rite so I can get back to ruling my kingdom?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, shooting her a salute.

“Castiel, will you be joining us or remain sulking in the corner?” she asked, flashing him a bright smile.

“I will remain in the corner.”

Rowena chuckled at that, and suddenly she was pinning me down with her sharp gaze.  “Dean Winchester, it seems the rumors that you’ve been acting a right twat might be true.”

“Why is it always my fault?” I asked with a scowl.  “What, ’cause Cass is an angel?  Well, news flash, angels are dicks.”

“You certainly won’t broker any argument from me there,” Rowena said.  “But the real question is, how much of the angel’s dick have you seen?”

I just about spontaneously combusted.

“Rowena!” Sam cried, scandalized.

Mellie looked between us all with a fascinated look on her face.  “Wait, are Castiel and Dean a couple?!”

“No, we are not a friggin’ couple!” I snapped.  “I’m not gay!  Jesus.”

“Ah, that’s too bad,” Rowena said shaking her head.  “You two really are adorable together.  You know, my Fergus always was a bit sweet on you…  You seem to give off a very seductive aura that screams, ‘I’m the picture of toxic masculinity but also I’d like you to take me to bed and pull me apart slow-’”

“C-crowley was what now?” I asked, mortified.

“Ah, yes, he told me about the triplets,” Rowena said with a grin.

I clenched my jaw.  “We do not talk about the triplets.”

“You know, I’m not gay either,” Castiel put in from his corner.

Everyone turned to look at him.

“Angels have no gender,” he explained.  “We have taken to equating ourselves with the gender of our frequently used vessels in order to accommodate your human languages which require such explanation, but Enochian has no gender-specific pronouns.  I myself have always used vessels of either gender.”

Dean proceeded to make a series of incomprehensible noises.

Cass burst out laughing.

I stared between them, confused about a lot of things, but most specifically about what had just come out of my nephew’s mouth.

“Enochian,” Sam explained, shaking his head.

“Wait, Junior can speak Enochian?!”

Sam shrugged, clearly jealous that his progeny had accomplished something he never even dreamed possible.

“He’s very good,” Castiel said with a proud smile.  “If only he could free himself of his human form and speak through his light.”

“If only,” Dean agreed.

“Well, this is all very amusing and all, but time is precious,” Rowena said, gracing us all with a threatening smile.

“Let the bloodletting begin,” I said, holding out my wrists to her, more than happy to change the subject.

“Dean, dear, we’re doing a Rite of Blood, not a bloodletting,” she explained.  “Unless that’s what you’re into?”

“I am into whatever you are into, Rowena,” I said, upping the charm.

“Oh, I did miss you a teeny weeny bit,” she said, shooting me a flirty smile back, then shoving me backwards on the bed.

“Okay,” I said, going with it.

“Lie back and enjoy the ride, boys,” she said, then started chanting in Latin.

Sam’s weight landed next to me, and suddenly the room was buzzing with energy.

I started to feel like I was drunk, looking at all the pretty colors swirling over our heads.  The ceiling seemed to be getting closer and closer, and when I tilted my head to the side, I realized we were now floating off the bed.  I felt completely serene.

And then we crashed back onto the cheap motel bed, the mattress squeaking loudly in protest.

“And we’re done,” Rowena said, clapping her hands together.  “Boys, it’s been lovely,” she said, leaning into our vision.  “Samuel, stay strapping,” she said, patting his chest.  “Dean… well, you’ll figure it out, dear.”

“Huh?” I said, still woozy from the ritual.

Rowena just smiled and disappeared from my line of sight, saying her goodbyes to the others.

“Did it work?” Sam asked, trying to sit up only to flop right back down on the bed.

“Rowena said it did, so that’s good enough for me,” Dean said, coming to sit next to his father.  “You okay?”

“Yeah, just…” Sam trailed off.

“High?” I suggested.

Sam nodded at me, a goofy smile on his face.  “High,” he agreed.

Dean and Mellie exchanged concerned looks.

“It’s a known side effect of the Rite of Blood,” Castiel explained.  “We should just let them sleep it off.”

Dean helped Castiel move Sam to the other bed, Sam laughing the whole way.

I caressed the comforter gently, rolling the texture between my fingers.

“Here you go,” Cass said, tugging off my boots and helping me into bed.

“Mm, thanks,” I hummed, rubbing my cheek against the pillow.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.  “Do you need liquid replenishment?”

“Nah, I’m okay,” I said, looking into his eyes for a moment and getting lost.

“I’ll watch over you tonight, if that’s all right with you,” he said, eyes taking on a questioning look.

“Okay,” I said, closing my eyes.  “My own freakin’ guardian angel.”

“Yes, your own freakin’ guardian angel,” Cass agreed, and then I was out like a light.

 - 5 -

  Sam and I sat in the back of the car together the next morning, sunglasses on and blankets wrapped around our shoulders.

“What the fuck did Rowena do to us?” I grumbled.

“She… activated our blood?” Sam said slowly, flinching at the sound of his own voice.

“And why the hell would blood ever have to be activated?”

“Something about… the ritual where they extract our blood to bind Temeluchus to the earth…?” he trailed off.

The front door of the car opened and Castiel slid in, leaning over the seat and putting a cup of hot coffee in my hands.

I felt myself smiling at him, and the smile was immediately returned.

He passed another cup to Sam, then faced forward again.

Dean slid in on the other side and started the car.

Mellie came over to us and the windows all rolled down.

“Great seeing you all,” she said, “but I need to haul ass back to Sioux Falls and get to work.”

Dean and Castiel gave her a proper goodbye while Sam and I mumbled something that might have sounded like human language, and then we were off.

I slept most of the morning despite the copious amounts of coffee I’d consumed, and slowly I started to feel like a human being again.  “Where are we going again?” I finally asked when I was ready to rejoin society.

“Lawrence,” Dean said.

“Of course,” I said.  “Back to Kansas.”

“Says the guy who will literally cross state lines just to pick up a damn pie,” Sam mumbled.

“I just don’t see why we couldn’t have summoned Rowena to the bunker,” I said with a shrug.  “Seems like this whole mission could go a lot smoother if we didn’t waste time floating around in these tin cans, getting high on blood rites…”

“I’m sorry, I would not have missed that for all the world,” Dean said with a snort.

Sam and I exchanged A Look.

“What does that mean?” Sam asked.

“It means you two were funny as shit last night,” Dean explained, and yet it explained nothing at all.

“We went to bed right after the ritual,” I said, Sam nodding his agreement.

“Oh, we tried to put you two to bed,” Dean said with a laugh.

“It was not successful,” Castiel agreed.  “You know, now that I think of it, memory loss is also one of the side effects of the ritual.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Sam asked, looking between them nervously.

I just nodded my head, showing my support for Sam’s confusion.

“So you really don’t remember ordering room service?” Dean asked, giving us an amused look.

“Motels have room service in the future?” I asked, squinting at Sam.

He just shrugged.

“And then you had a race down the hall on the room service carts?” Dean continued.

“Oh, that sounds like us,” I said, relieved that we had just behaved like children and not actually done anything detrimentally stupid.

“I’m sorry, is it?” Dean asked with a laugh.  “I mean, my dad is such an… old man.”

“That is also true,” I agreed.  “Sammy certainly has the longest, thickest imaginable stick up his ass, but he occasionally knows how to pull it out and let his hair down.”

“Beautiful imagery, Dean,” Sam said.  “Who knew you had the sensitive soul of a poet?”

“I am a man of many talents.”

“So you also are accustomed to dancing on bars?” Dean asked, looking intrigued.

“I’m sorry, what?” Sam said again, as I nodded my agreement with him.

“Bars?  Dancing on them?”

“Isn’t that usually a thing that chicks do?” I asked, scratching at my stubble.

“And also something that the Winchester brothers apparently do,” Castiel contributed helpfully.

“I have never in my life danced on a bar,” I stated firmly.

Dean held up his phone, showing us both an image of what looked horrifyingly like me and Sammy, shaking our asses on a bar.

At least we were surrounded by a crowd of adoring-looking females.

“Listen, what happens during the Rite of Blood stays in the Rite of Blood,” I said.

“And your mother never needs to see that,” Sam added.

“Oh, I sent her the video.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“She showed it to all her friends in the nursing home.”

“…”

“The video is very funny,” Castiel put in, helping as usual.

Sam and I proceeded to stew in silence.

Apparently the next step in the ritual to bind the Angel Whatever-His-Name-Was involved another spell performed simultaneously on the north and south sides of the hospital where Sam and I were born.

“I thought we would be going to the cemetery, why the hospital?” Sam asked as we pulled into the parking lot.

“Because this is the power spot of Lawrence,” Castiel explained.  “It is where Mary pushed you both from her uterus, setting destiny into mo-”

“Dude, please do not ever talk about my mother’s uterus again,” I interrupted him, aghast.

“Yes, but Dean, it was a monumental event that only Mary, with her well-formed uterus, could-”

“What the hell did I just say.”

“‘Please do not ever talk about my mother’s uterus again,’” he repeated in a very disturbingly accurate impression of me.

“And yet you keep talking about it.”

“I do not think that Mary would take offense.”

“I take offense, Cass.”

Castiel suddenly disappeared.

“Uh, we kinda need him for the spell,” Dean said.

“Why do you have to pick a fight with him over everything?” Sam asked.

“Why am I always the bad guy?!” I demanded.

Castiel suddenly reappeared in the front seat.  “I talked to Mary, and she was not offended.”

“You what?” I asked.

“She seemed a little annoyed with you, though, Dean.”

“For what possible reason would my mother be annoyed with me?!”

“Don’t we need to begin the spell?” he asked, changing the subject like the asshole he was.

“We should get in position,” Dean agreed.

“Dean and I will take the south,” Sam chimed in quickly.

“That wouldn’t make sense,” Castiel said with a frown.  “One of you needs to be at the north.”

“No, my son Dean,” Sam clarified.

“Ah, you meant Other Dean.”

Dean Junior rolled his eyes but smiled.  “Come on, Dad,” he said, opening the door.

“Wait, what if I want to go with Junior?” I protested.

“Father-son bonding time,” Sam said, scrambling out of his side of the car, and he and Dean took off at a much faster walking pace than necessary.

“Do you really just call Junior ‘Other Dean’?” I asked, giving Cass a weird look.

“Of course,” he said, his brows scrunching in confusion.  “You are Dean.  He is not you.”

“You don’t think it’s just a little bit insulting to be called ‘Other’?”

“You call that same man who is older than you ‘Junior.’”

“I was born first.”

“Yes.  You are the original.  He is the Other Dean.”

“Weirdo,” I said, getting out of the car.  I wasn’t smiling because of Cass.

I caught him giving me that soft look of his again, his own mouth curving in a smile.

I ignored it and moved towards the north of the hospital.

Castiel drew up beside me, and when we’d reached a little grassy area that he deemed the correct spot, we started setting up the candles and drawing sigils.

When I was seated in the middle of the candles, I used Cass’s phone to message Sam.  “They’re almost ready,” I informed him.

“Good,” he said, shifting from side-to-side and scoping out the area.  The only light came leaking out from behind the curtained windows of the hospital, clouds covering up any light from the sky.  “Dean?”

“Yeah?” I asked.

“…are we still fighting?”

I looked at him.

His brows were drawn together and his lips were pushed out, and I couldn’t help but marvel that this dope was an angel.

“Do you still think that I’m angry with you because I’m uncomfortable about your feelings?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Then yeah, we’re still fighting.”

“Dean, I don’t understand.”

“Do you need me to draw you a friggin’ road map?”

“That would be helpful, yes.”

The phone buzzed.

“Ten seconds,” I said, and Castiel straightened up, ready to start.

We both counted down, and then I started lighting the candles and Castiel started chanting.  The wind picked up, but somehow the flames stayed lit, growing stronger and taller.  Everything seemed to be going according to plan.

Then a demon appeared and punched Castiel in the face.

[violetsmoak]

Philtatos [13/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101543/chapters/47690671

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: During a patrol where Red Hood and Red Robin cross paths, Jason is infected with the blood of the Eros, the ancient God of Love, who informs them that they must track down his missing bow and arrows, or Jason will go slowly mad with an obsessive desire–for Tim. Though overwhelmed by the sudden attention being paid to him, Tim sets to work trying to solve the case, before Jason succumbs to madness. In the meantime, Jason discovers that there’s more than godlike powers at work here, as well as a legacy that reaches back through the sands of time.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Beta Reader: None at the moment.

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #fatal flaw #secrets #riddle #fate #revenge #oracle #betrayal #prophecy #jealousy

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

Tim feels a little bad about using Jason’s skin hunger against him but only for a moment. Any concern about that vanishes when he peeks back at Jason as they walk, and observes the color returning to the other man’s cheeks. The hand clasped in his own stops shaking the longer they touch.

Tim has never been one to enjoy holding hands—often he’s felt uncomfortable or self-conscious, worrying about sweaty fingers or whether the other person might consider it lame—but this doesn’t feel like that.

This feels right.

It’s actually concerning how right it feels, especially in light of his recent discussion with Steph.

Stop it. This isn’t about you. It’s about putting Jason at ease.

They return to the containment unit to find Barbara facing down Eros—an impressive feat considering she’s in a wheelchair and he’s the one looking down on her. Her face is drawn in irritation, and he’s gratified to see that Eros seems put-out about something.

“Took you long enough. Cherry here says she’s got a bonafide prophecy from the Oracle of Delphi and wouldn’t share it until you got back.” He eyes their entwined hands and leers. “I take it the domestics are going well?”

“Get bent,” Tim snaps in irritation as Jason tugs his hand back so fast he might as well have been burned.

“Only if you do the honors, pretty boy.”

Jason growls and makes a move for his gun, but Tim reaches out to stop him.

“Can you not tease him?” he demands of Eros. “Especially when the only reason he’s like this is because of you.”

“Oh, if only you knew…”

Before Tim can comment on that, Jason interrupts.

“What’s the feathered freak talkin’ about?” he snaps, radiating tension. “What prophecy?”

“The one Signal was able to recover from the girl that was killed,” Barbara says coolly. “He transcribed it and sent it along. Do you want to hear it, or do you want to keep acting like a child?”

This she directs at Eros, who actually does look chastised a beat, before gracing her with a cool smile.

“I guess it is apropos if you do the honors, darlin’,” Eros says with a cool smile. “Is it ironic or coincidental if someone who stole the title of oracle interprets a prophecy from the actual Oracle of Delphi?”

“Who cares? This whole situation is making me hate both irony and coincidence,” Tim says.

“It’s making me wonder if there are any coincidences,” Jason mutters, eyes fixed on Eros in intense dislike.

Barbara offers him an identical look, before thumbing the screen of her phone and opening her incoming messages.

Then she begins to read:

“The Unseen darkness cannot keep its captive thrice for mortal masks the divine that seeks its reward in the city where dark nights conceal the greatest of secrets.

“Crossed beneath the stars when the Rager’s Moon is full, eternal freedom is neigh upon the eleventh moment of the small hour.The sacrifice of the virgin gifts triumph to the prisoner and that which drowned in Lethe’s tears is reborn.

“But take heed, for the winged scion of Cythera, willingly blinded by the veil of vengeance revealed by Discord’s most cursed boon, awakens the warrior guided by the Physicians heir.

“Fury dooms the fair, heralding the return of magnificent Alexandros and one whose name is painted in blood and stone.

“Greatest of loves, damned by the gleam of a golden barb, torn asunder by jealousy and parted by cruel death, they will stand against Strife.

“Titans will rise and one who Death names hero, betrayed yet shielded by love, will sunder the chains of Aidoneus and avenge the victim of grievance. One will be born anew, the other bound eternally to Stygian Darkness.”

There is silence as she puts the phone down, eyebrows drawn together in thought.  

“What?” Tim says.

“I see your ‘what’ and raise you a ‘the fuck’,” Jason adds. “Does any of that make sense to anyone else? Because it don't make sense to me.”

��Blame my uncle,” Eros says, apparently annoyed.

“What? Why?” Tim wants to know. “Which one’s he?”

“Apollo,” Barbara says, still considering the puzzling words on the screen. “Aside from being a sun god, he was also the god of prophecy.”

“Talking in riddles is his favorite pastime,” Eros agrees. “It’s a pain in the ass.”

“I’ll bet,” Tim agrees. “We’ve got someone like that here in Gotham.”

“Yeah, and he’s a frequent guest of Arkham, so what’s that tell you?” Jason grumbles.

“That people who come up with riddles have too much time on their hands.”

“There’s a reason the Oracles of Delphi didn’t put their predictions into simple words,” Barbara points out. ”If you give people information about what’s coming, how do you know you’re not ensuring it will or won’t come to pass? It was important for them to be seen as the medium of the message and not an agent.

“By keeping information vague, it would seem like they were allowing a querant the chance to defy fate, while at the same time allowing fate to take its natural course, whatever that might be,” Eros agrees. “Ans it was good insurance. Even Oracles needed to cover their asses. You were less likely to get your head lopped off by a visiting king that received news he didn’t want to hear. And whatever the outcome, they could still say, ‘we told you so’.” He considers Barbara. “You know, I don’t usually find brainy sexy, but you might just turn me.”

“I’m thrilled,” she deadpans.

“So what’s all this supposed to mean, anyway?” Tim asks, trying to bring the discussion back to the matter at hand.

“It could mean anything. Though to start with, that bit about ‘unseen darkness’, that’s an epithet for the Underworld in old Hellenic documents.”

“We called it that in the old days,” Eros confirms.

“And then there’s the part about someone captive in Hades.”

“I thought Hades was a person?” Tim says.

“It is. But it’s also a place.” Jason tells him.

“It depends on what story and what source you’re drawing from,” Barbara elaborates. “And what translation.”

“What about the next bit? About mortal maskin' the divine?”

“Could that mean whoever’s possessing Carrie Cutter?” Tim suggests. “We’ve already established she’s got help from a god, and if they’re inhabiting her body even for short amounts of time, it’s a pretty effective mask.”

“No doubt,” Eros agrees. “Not so sure about that part with dark nights, but I guess it’s referring to this cesspool you people call a city.”

Tim, Jason and Barbara exchange glances, knowing exactly how dark nights and secrets relate to their city.

Maybe Duke misheard. It might not be dark ‘nights’ so much as dark ‘knights’. Which makes sense, considering Bruce and Dick both have that title depending on the day.

“Safe to say it’s Gotham,” Tim confirms. “So all that begs the question, do you have any idea who’s locked in the Underworld trying to get out?”

Eros snorts. “The better question is who isn’t locked in the Underworld.”

Jason is glaring furiously at Eros, clearly growing tired of his evasive and snarky answers. The way his fists clench, Tim suspects he’s close to throwing a punch at the glass in frustration. Not something Tim wants to see, especially given Jason’s injuries from their altercation with Carrie Cutter and Dick haven’t even been seen to yet.

God, it feels like it was days ago but it was only hours. He probably came right here to confront Eros without even looking after himself.

He has to put that out of his mind for now. Deciphering any clues in the prophecy takes momentary precedence.

“…. A lot of myths end with someone displeasing a god and getting sent to Tartarus, so he has a point,” Barbara is saying, her thumbs busily texting something on her phone.

“So that’s not going to tell us anything,” Tim decides. “What about the ‘crossed beneath the stars’ part?”

“More of the same in terms of pinpointing when everything is supposed to happen,” Eros says.

“Which is when?”

“November twenty-third,” Barbara says, frowning at the small screen in her hand.

Jason looks askance. “How d’you know?”

“'Moon’ equates to month, and another name for Zeus was the Rager,” she replies. “So, Zeus’s month. According to the Athenian calendars we still have access to, Zeus’s month was Maimakterion—which in modern times would fall somewhere between November and December. And the next full moon—” She holds up her phone, showing a lunar calendar for the month, “—falls on November twenty-third. It’s the only full moon that falls during Maimakterion.”

Eros nods along in approval. “What she said.”

“And the small hour?”

“Midnight.”

“So, whatever’s supposed to happen is going to happen eleven minutes after midnight…assuming that’s what moment means,” Tim muses, glancing at his own phone calendar. “That’s this Friday.”

“Five days from now,” Jason agrees, and side-eyes Tim. “We’ve all had shorter deadlines.”

“That’s not necessarily referring to your deadline, sweet cheeks,” Eros reminds him. “I figure you have about half that.”

“No thanks to you.”

“You know, the last Jason I knew wasn’t this whiny.”

“Children,” Barbara says sharply. “Let’s stay focused, shall we? I’m concerned about this virgin sacrifice part—specifically the part where it ensures success for someone we probably don’t want to succeed.”

“Cutter did kill that girl,” Tim reminds them. “Maybe it was some kind of offering, so she’d be successful at whatever she’s trying to do.”

“It’s a good an explanation as anything else,” Eros agrees, examining his nails. “We always did love our human sacrifices. And a virgin does increase the likelihood of something working out to your advantage.”

“You’re a piece of shit,” Jason growls. “That’s a kid you’re talking about!”

“And as an Oracle of Delphi she’s entitled to an eternity of bliss once she enters the Underworld,” Eros dismisses. “It’s a better end than some people are entitled to.”

Jason’s eyes blaze as if that’s a personal insult. Tim can certainly empathize.

“What about the second part?” he prompts. “What’s Lethe?”

“The Lethe was the river the souls drank from to forget their previous lives before being reincarnated,” Barbara explains.

 “The Ancient Greeks believed in reincarnation? But I thought that was something from the Far East?”

“Many ancient cultures had a concept of reincarnation beyond the Hindu and Buddhist mythos,” Barbara explains. “Just look at the belief systems of the indigenous peoples of North America and you’ll see countless examples. And they didn’t have any contact with the civilizations of Asia during the time when those faiths were evolving.”

Beside Tim, Jason is as stiff as a board and appears to be having trouble breathing. Automatically, Tim edges closer to him, and though he doesn’t outright take his hand—he leans into him, nudging him with his shoulder.

Jason’s eyes dart to him for a moment, and he relaxes incrementally.

“How does that relate here though?” Barbara wants to know.

“Maybe the prisoner forgot something,” Eros suggests, not sounding very interested.

“Or maybe whoever’s tryin' to escape Hades as made to forget something,” Jason counters darkly.

“Only mortals can be made to forget by drinking from the Lethe,” Barbara says. “The prisoner could have been human. Salmoneus or Tantalus or one of the Dainads.”

Tim doesn’t even get a chance to question who they are before Eros interrupts. “Actually, it’s a little broader than just mortals. More like mortals, demigods that haven’t consumed ambrosia, giants, hybrids—”

“So again, we’re back to a broad spectrum of people it could be talkin' about,” Jason complains. “Great. Is there anyone or anything in this stupid prophecy that isn’t doublespeak?”

“Well, the next verse is pretty self-explanatory. Obviously, we’re talking about yours truly,” Eros says, pointing at himself. “What other 'winged son' do you know from mythology?”

“A case could be made for Pegasus.”

“No, it’s Eros,” Tim says. “Cythera’s another name for Aphrodite.” Everyone looks at him in surprise.

“How do you know that?” Jason asks, but where the emphasis ought to suggest incredulity, he sounds impressed.

Tim tries not to bask in that.

“My parents used to visit the island of Cythera a lot when they weren’t on business trips, especially before I was born. It was their favorite vacation destination. Full of history, not touristy—they didn’t like having to socialize with people when they were on vacation.”

Tim falls silent then, remembering sitting in his living room with his parents, pouring over their vacation photos of the Mediterranean island while they told stories. They’d always promised to take him one day…

He glances up and notices the others are watching him now—Eros with a sharp, calculating gaze while Jason appears concerned. As for Barbara, she seems to sense his discomfort, because she navigates them past the lull. “Okay, so if it’s Eros, what are you wanting revenge for? It’s not exactly your M-O.”

“I can think of a few people who have it coming,” Eros answers. “Starting with my mother.”

“What’d she do?” Tim asks.

“Do you have a few centuries worth of couch time?”

“Isn’t she the reason your wife died?” Barbara wants to know. “In the myth, she survived, but Tim told me that's not what happened in reality.”

Eros expression goes cold.

“That’s right,” Tim remembers; he and Eros had this conversation a few days ago, didn’t they? “Aphrodite is the one who sent Psyche to the underworld.”

Eros bares his teeth. “One of her many sins, but not the only one.”

“Then couldn’t the prophecy maybe be referring to her? Psyche, I mean? Maybe she’s the prisoner.”

“Are you implying my wife is the one behind your Cupid’s actions?” Eros growls. “Because that’s impossible.”

“How would you know? It could be—”

“Because she died a mortal! Her soul is mortal and wouldn’t have the power to escape the Underworld in any capacity! Furthermore, Psyche would never kill or arrange the death of anyone! She was good and pure of soul and that’s why I fell in love with her.”

“That’s not what I read,” Barbra says. “Didn’t you prick yourself on one of your golden arrows while watching her?”

“I pricked myself because I fell in love with her,” he snaps. “I’ve already told Jason here that the arrows only work to magnify emotions that are already there.”

“That makes no sense. You liked her before you made yourself fall in love with her?”

“Look, you know the story: Psyche was beautiful. So much so, that the idiots in her kingdom started treating her like a living goddess, bringing the gifts meant for my mother to this human princess. You can guess how well that went over.”

“Right. She sent you to make her fall in love with a horrible beast.”

“Yeah, one of Diomedes mares. Gorgeous animals—people would stop and stare at them for hours. Also, vicious, flesh-eating beasts. Just getting to close to one of those and it would have ripped her to shreds—and she would have stood there and let it.” Eros’ expression becomes soft, eyes faraway at the memory. “If she had been some arrogant, selfish royal I would have let it happen. But I watched her for days while I tried to put her in the path of that thing. And everything she did was just good and kind. I had never seen as pure a soul like hers.” He shakes his head. “The idea of a girl like that being sent to her death just because a bunch of idiot humans had the audacity to praise her alongside my mother didn’t seem fair.”

“And you’re all about fair, aren’t you?” Jason sneers.

Tim has to agree; if Eros cared about fair, he would have been a lot more helpful about curing Jason and wouldn’t have demanded they find his diviners beforehand.

“I was young and stupid, and I didn’t realize the world didn’t work that way,” Eros dismisses. “Even for gods. I thought my mother would never want to harm me—and so if I put Psyche under my protection, she couldn’t hurt her. And if I could show my mother what a good wife Psyche was, even if she was unable to see me, it would prove the point.” He snorts. “It didn’t exactly go my way.”

“And there’s no way her soul could have somehow been corrupted when she died?”

“The Underworld is stagnant. There’s no such thing as change or time there. Everything occurs both in one moment and in all moments there.”

“So you’re saying a soul going in would remain in the same state as it was when it died,” Barbara posits.

“Exactly. How else do you expect the judges to judge souls if they kept changing after death? It’d be a headache.

“Then if it’s not Psyche, who else can you think of that it might be?”

“It might be more than one person,” Tim suggests. “That line about 'greatest of loves'—what if that’s why Carrie’s been targeting couples? She hears the prophecy—or whoever’s riding along inside her hears the prophecy—and thinks there’s a couple out there that’s going to stand against her. She could be trying to eliminate potential threats to her end goal.”

“If so, we need to decipher her criteria for choosing her victims. You already said it didn’t seem like they had anything in common.”

“We’ll have to check again. Maybe now that we’ve got this prophecy, something new will jump out.”

“We skipped a whole verse,” Jason points out. “The ‘warrior guided by the physician’s heir’. Any ideas?”

Eros shrugs. “Since the rest of the prophecy involves me, I’d say it’s me.”

“How do you figure?”

“The Physician is another name for Apollo.”

“So?”

“So, who do you think taught me archery? Next to him, I’m the greatest archer among the Olympians.”

“Or it could be Jason,” Tim ponders.

Jason seems to go pale, almost panicked. “What?”

“I mean, assuming you’re interpreting ‘awaken’ by activating the way you do with a sleeper agent. You infected him with your blood however accidentally and then pressed him into doing your dirty work.”

“I resent your tone, boy,” Eros grumbles, but Jason interjects, “And the other bit?”

“The other bit is just really literal,” Barbara catches on. “Jason, you were trained by Batman. Who was the heir to an actual physician. The M.D. kind.”

Thomas Wayne.

Jason looks like he doesn’t know what to do with that information. “Shit.”

Eros watches Jason, inscrutable eyes considering; Jason glares back at him as if waiting for him to make a comment.

“But if it’s Jason, the next bit wouldn’t make sense,” Barbara says after a moment. “‘Magnificent Alexandros’. The only Alexandros I can think of off the top of my head if Alexander of Macedon. But that doesn’t really track with the rest of the verse. He was a historical figure, not mythological.”

“That’s offensive, you know,” Eros drawls. “All those stories you call mythology actually happened.”

“Then why don’t we have an archaeological record for them?”

“Because screw you, that’s why.”

“If it is talking about Alexander the Great, Robin will be happy,” Tim says with a rueful smirk.

Jason is perplexed. “Why?”

“Apparently he was on the list of the kid’s League-approved childhood heroes. Mother-son bonding time seems to have included traveling in his footsteps as preparation for world domination.”

Jason looks surprised and amused. “Really?”

“Is it that surprising?”

“No, it’s just…” Jason shakes his head. “Never mind.” He clears his throat. “So, back to the prophecy. It talks about the Titans—are we talkin' the creatures the Olympian gods overthrew?”

“Well, whenever one of us mention the Titans, it is usually those bottom feeders rotting in Tartarus, yes,” Eros says dryly, inscrutable focussed on Jason. “Them going free is never a good thing. Don’t believe me, read the Titanomachy. Hesiod got it pretty close to right.”

“Could be the goal, could be the result,” Tim suggests.

“Which brings us back to possibly being on the lookout for more than one prisoner escaping Hades,” Barbara says.

“And all of that leads us to the typical ‘one shall live and one shall die’ device,” Eros concludes.

“Only we don’t know who either of those is.”

“I can tell you now if it’s a prophecy involving me, I have no intention of dying."

“If it’s even about you. It’s not really an exact science, interpreting this sort of thing,” Barbara warns. “Even an Olympian like you can misunderstand—there’s evidence of that in the myths. In fact, I’m sure we’re missing more than is good for us. It will take some time to decipher it and we need more information.”

“At least we have something,” Tim maintains. “The exact date when it’s going to happen and where. We can begin preparing for that.”

“It’s a whole hell of a lot to think about,” Jason agrees.

“Which you can do back at the Cave. We only came here to see if Eros could shed some light on the prophecy or see the arrows.”

“What arrows?”

“Wonder Girl told us that to reverse what’s been done to Nightwing is to remove the arrow that Carrie stabbed him with.”

“Uh, there is no arrow,” Jason says. “Cupid took it with her, remember?”

“I guess that answers that question,” Barbara sighs. “You can’t see them.”

“Of course he can’t,” Eros says. “I’m the only one that can see the wounds caused by my arrows. Even this pseudo-Cupid wouldn’t be able to see them.”

“After she stabbed Jason she seemed to be looking for something, so I’m not sure about that,” Tim argues.

“She can’t see them. Though it may be possible her divine passenger might. I don't know. Never had another god take my diviners before."

“Speaking of being stabbed,” Tim goes on, nodding at the bruises coming out on his face. There are likely more hidden by the leather jacket and gear. “You should get those looked at.”

“I didn’t physically get stabbed, you know. Magic wounds don’t need to be looked at.”

“You went toe-to-toe with an enhanced fighter and Batman. You could have internal bleeding for all we know.”

“If you think a little tussle with that dick is going to do lastin' damage—”

Tim cuts off his indignation. “I don’t, but you haven’t been eating or sleeping properly, and your system is already compromised, so how do you know what damage was or wasn’t done? You didn’t stay to get treated at the Cave.”

Their eyes meet, remembering exactly why that is, and Tim’s cheeks darken. Jason is the first to look away, though.

“It’s nothin'. I can patch myself up whenever.”

“I can help—”

“I’m good.”

“Jason—”

“I’m an adult and I’ve been treatin' myself without help for years now,” Jason interrupts tensely. When Tim can’t stop himself from flinching, Jason’s eyes flash with dismay. “I mean…” He flounders like he’s trying to take it back, and instead changes the subject. “Didn’t you say somethin' about a list? Maybe get started on that and I’ll do an injury check myself.”

It’s a clear cop-out, and if they were alone, Tim would be calling him on it.

“I’ll ask for help if I need any,” he adds, awkwardly, like it’s been a long time since anyone actually cared about his injuries being treated. 

Barbara glances between the two of them, obviously sensing the undertone, but not commenting on it. Instead, she says, “I don’t mind helping Jason. Besides, Red Robin needs to contact the Family and let them know what we know.”

“And I need food,” Eros says. “I haven’t eaten since before you went on your little reconnaissance mission. Can’t you see? I’m wasting away.”

 “If only,” Jason mutters.

Tim is torn, wanting to argue that he can help Jason, but at the same time trying to respect the other man’s obvious need for distance.

At last, he nods.

“Okay,” he says, feeling a little defeated. “Let’s take a break. I’ll make a food run…you get yourself fixed up.”

“Whatever you say, babybird.”

⁂

Once Tim vanishes, Barbie indicates with a jerk of her head that Jason should follow her upstairs to the Nest medbay. He knows better than to think it’s just her wanting to take a look at his injuries—like him, she’s probably looking for some privacy.

They take the elevator up in silence, and Jason wonders vaguely when the last time was, he was this close to Barbara Gordon.

I don’t think I have been, actually. We both avoid the manor unless there’s no choice. And we both have good reasons for it. And when we are there together, there’s usually about six to ten feet of distance between us.

They were never what he would call close before she was paralyzed and he died. Barbie was Dick’s girl and Jason’s occasional babysitter until the Joker ruined her life. And then she wasn’t around at all. Jason wasn’t alive to watch her painstakingly drag herself up and pull it together again, so he never got the chance to interact with the Barbara Gordon that became Oracle.

Since returning to Gotham he’s kept her at a distance as much as he did the rest of the Family, so it’s somewhat surprising to him that she’s here now and working to help him.

Probably it’s on account of Tim.

Still silent, they enter the surgically pristine room of the Nest’s medical wing—and Jason is a little jealous of the supplies here. It makes the kits he has in his safehouses about as sophisticated as a needle and threat.

Barbie watches him, framed in the doorway.

“Well? Spit it out,” he grunts, deciding to get whatever reprimands are forthcoming out of the way.

Her look turns sharp before she reaches into her jacket pocket for something; Jason can’t help tensing up, even though she knows the likelihood of her pulling a weapon on him are slim to none.

That suspicion is confirmed when she instead draws out a device and turns it on; there’s a high-pitched background whir that Jason recognizes as a listening device scrambler.

Clearly we’re both aware of what a paranoid freak Timbers can be.

“Okay, Jason, what’s going on?” she asks without preamble. “You know Tim only wants to help you.”

“Yeah, at his own expense,” he retorts sourly.

Barbies raises an eyebrow as if waiting for him to continue, and when he doesn’t, she presses, “You’re being cagey. And it’s more than just worrying about losing control around Tim, I can tell.”

“Oh you can, can you?” he challenges.

“I’ve known you since you were still desperately trying to live up to Dick while pretending like you didn’t care. I know when you’re hiding something,” she folds her arms. “Believe it or not, Jason, you’re a terrible liar when it comes to things that matter.”

It’s reflex to want to say something caustic to that, but he stops himself in time. He needs Barbara’s help and pissing her off isn’t going to make his life any easier.

“I need a favor,” he admits after a beat.

“Another one?” she repeats, sounding like she doesn’t believe him. “You’re going to owe me a lot.”

“Yeah, well, now would be the time to collect on those debts while I still can.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means everyone else is tiptoein' around the subject, but at some point, I’m gonna need to be put under,” he says, erring on the side of just enough truth to keep her from questioning him further. “We both know what I’m talkin' about here.”

As expected, Barbara only just keeps herself from visibly recoiling; she’s already ready with an argument. “You don’t know we won’t find something before that happens.”

“I’m already feelin' like I’m livin' in someone else’s skin—” Literally, in a way. “—I’m not gonna get any better than I am right now. We’ve already seen what it looks like when I dip toward worse. So while I’m still lucid, let me make my decisions. And my decision is, I’d rather go under while I’m still me instead of violent, mindless…reaver.”

Barbara does a minor double-take. “Did you just make a Firefly reference?”

“It’s the last series I was watching before I died,” Jason says, a little defensive.

“I’m not judging, just surprised. Dick and Tim are usually the ones making pop-culture references to deflect. I’m not used to it from you.”

“And I’m not used to you stallin',” he counters. “You’re different from the other Bats, O. You know how to cut your losses, and you know how to make decisions when no one else wants to think about it. You get makin' the hard calls. So, I’m gonna ask you: when it comes down to a choice between me and Tim—and I mean when, not if—who do you save?”

Something like pain passes over her face, and then resolve hardens her face. “Tim.”

“Exactly,” he approves. “Because unlike me, he’s good. And smart.”

“You’re both of those things, even if you pretend like you’re not,” she protests.

“And he hasn’t committed multiple murders,” Jason continues, acting like he didn’t hear her. “Not that what I’ve done wasn’t justified. It wasn’t good, but I don’t regret it because I will go to my grave believin' sometimes that line needs to be crossed. Again. But it’s still a line Tim’s been lucky enough not to have to cross.”

She doesn’t argue with him, instead inclines her head.

“More people will miss him if he were gone then they would me,” Jason concludes. “I’m not supposed to be here anyway.”

There’s a long beat of measuring silence. Then, Barbara sighs. “What is it you need, Jason?”

He tilts his chin in gratitude.

“I didn’t just come here to yell at Eros,” he admits. “If Wonder Woman doesn’t show up, he’s the only one I know who has access to the stuff I need.”

“The Stygian Sleep.”

“Yeah. But it’s probably in GCPD lock-up.” He gives her a quick run-down of events, minus anything about Eros’ intentional plan to infect him. Babs listens, jaw set and eyes narrowed; given what she just said about him, she likely knows he’s not being completely truthful, but his explanation clearly holds enough water that she doesn’t call him on it.

“I’ll get someone to look into it,” she decides at last.

Which, even though he’s relieved about, he’s also suspicious.

“And by ‘look into’ you mean grab hold of and perform a million tests on it before handin' it over,” he posits.

“Just because you’re hellbent on using something that’s effectively going to kill you doesn’t mean I don’t want to know everything about it first,” she says, unapologetic. “Like the prophecy, it might have clues about how to circumvent it.”

“Yeah, because we’re having so much luck with that.”

“Also, when Bruce comes to me later in a righteous fury for letting his son die a second time, I’ll be able to assure him we knew everything we did about it before making an informed decision.”

Jason doesn’t pretend to believe that’s the end of it. Barbara might be willing to humor Jason a little more than Bruce, or even Dick when he’s not compromised—she might even be a little more objective in considering things, but she’s not going to trust Jason’s plan to be the only plan. She’ll have her own contingencies, the same as any Bat.

The only difference with Babs is that once it’s over and done with, and it becomes clear there’s no saving him, she’ll have an easier time getting over it than Bruce will. And she won’t let it compromise her work.

Tim’s told Jason what Bruce and Dick were like after he died the first time, and if it happens again, Gotham needs someone competent in keeping things in check.

And Tim…

Jason’s heart thuds with guilt.

This time, Tim won’t just be sweeping in to pick up the broken pieces of Batman and Nightwing as he did as a kid. He won’t be watching it from the sidelines.

The memory hits him then. To his surprise, it’s not from Achilleus or Alexandros.

Jason hates Wayne Charity galas.

People are always staring at him, murmuring through pasted-on smiles that even if he couldn’t read lips, he would be able to hear the judgment dripping from their words. These people are so achingly dry and genteel, their teeth don’t even unclench around their vowels.

Bruce doesn’t make him come to all that many of these shindigs, thankfully; only the ones involving children’s advocacy and the like. Jason doesn’t mind those too much, considering their purpose. He just hates that even at those—like the one tonight—he’s the only kid that has to parade around in the straitjacket Alfred calls a tux.

He gets it, of course; he’s the poster-boy, the success story, a means of showing the rich snobs how well a dirty Crime Alley orphan can clean up so that they’ll open their checkbooks.

It doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Except for tonight, for the first time, he noticed another kid that’s been dragged along. A tiny boy whose meticulously fitted tux still manages to look too big for him.

A man and woman who must be his parents are chatting with another couple, seemingly oblivious to the way their son is staring into the distance, a neutrally polite expression fixed on his face. He might as well be sleeping standing up, and Jason has the odd suspicion that’s by design.

That makes his mouth twitch; maybe rich kids get bored with this kind of thing too.

Jason keeps staring across the manor ballroom until the strange kid senses his gaze and looks up. He grins when the boy’s eyes widen—their color is startling, even from across the room, and they take up practically his whole face—and wonders at the sudden flood of color in his cheeks.

He’s about to motion the boy over to the edge of the reception area—hanging out with another kid, even a little one, will definitely break up the monotony of the evening—when Bruce’s hand falls hard on his shoulder.

“Time to make an exit, son,” he says, voice quiet and intense and incongruent with the false smile he’s still beaming at everyone within a ten-foot radius. From the distracted note in his words, Jason doesn’t even need to look out the window to see the signal lighting up the sky. 

They meet Felipe Garzonas that night, and he doesn’t think of the boy again.

Jason shudders as the technicolor recollection fades out, his stomach twisting angrily.

He’s never made the connection between Tim and the boy at the fundraiser before. It occurs to him how stupid that was—at the same time it occurs to him that if not for that case that night, he might not have been on the outs with Bruce. He might have endured more Wayne event galas instead of limiting whatever time he was with Bruce to being Robin by night. He might have gotten to know Tim in this life, instead of dying.

He might not be in this damned predicament right now.

“Jason?”

He looks up, realizes that Barbie is watching him with concern. He is quick to revisit their conversation and mutters, “Yeah, fine. Just make sure the stuff actually makes it to me before my brain dribbles out of my head, okay?”

“Stop being so dramatic,” she replies, reaching out to turn off the scrambler device, though she continues to exude suspicion.

“All Bats are dramatic, or have you forgotten?” he quips back, offering an irreverent smirk to cover up.

“Hard to forget something you live with every day,” she returns dryly. “Now get over here and let me check you over.”

“You don’t need to,” he points out. “I’ve had worse than this, you know.”

“Yes, yes, we’re all aware you’ve died and come back, who hasn’t these days?” she returns. “Now, shirt off, or I’m telling Tim you didn’t do what you said you would.”

Jason glares. “This is going to become a thing, isn’t it? You people using Tim to make me do things.”

“Things that are for your own good, yes. Now strip, Todd.”

“Yes, mother…”

“You wish your mother was as cool as me.”

Which Jason can’t argue with, because she’s right; he’s had a total of three mother figures in his life (two of which he’s not sure even qualify because of how messed up they were), and none of them have been as capable or decent as Barbara Gordon.

Once he’s shrugged his top half out of the body armor and leather, she reaches for him.

Jason experiences a nauseous swoop in his stomach at the idea of anyone but Tim putting hands on him. Instantly, his hand snaps up and knocks hers back.

“Don’t touch me!” he snarls.

Barbara pulls away, watching him with a raised eyebrow and instantly Jason is overwhelmed with shame.

“Sorry,” he bites out. “I didn’t mean…”

“We can wait for Tim to get back,” she suggests, instantly understanding.

Alarms blare in his head at the thought; he shakes his head. “No. No, I’m…I’m good. Now that I’m expectin' it.”

She considers him several beats longer and then makes the next attempt to check his injuries. This time he concentrates on forcing the sick feeling away and tries to ignore how it feels like someone is rubbing sandpaper across his skin.

That’s a new symptom. Great. Because it wasn’t enough that I’ve been trying to claw my skin of myself, now other people get to do it too…

Barbara checks him over with quiet efficiency, evaluating the shallow slash between his arm and shoulder which his armor didn’t cover, as well the bruising along his hips, elbows and lower back.

“It could be worse,” she decides eventually, considering the mottled purpling across his chest. “Ribs are bruised, not broken.”

“I could've told you that…”

“And were you going to tell me about that?” she points at his shoulder and the spiderweb of gold leeching out around the long-healed-over bullet wound. From the way he’s been itching at it this past day, he doesn’t need a mirror to know it’s beginning to creep up his neck as well. “How long has it been growing like that?”

“Pretty much since I got it,” he replies.

She reaches up, brow furrowed and reaches toward one of the raised lines winding toward his chest. Again, he braces himself for the pain of the touch his body doesn’t want.

Thankfully, she barely grazes that. “You haven’t been keeping better track, have you? It might give us a more specific idea of how much time you have.”

“How so?”

“The same as any poison, I would guess. The closer it gets to your heart, the less time you have.”

He frowns. “At this point, I don’t think it even matters.”

Movement outside of the med bay window draws his attention, and he across the floor to see Tim climbing the stairs from the ground floor.

Jason is quick to grab his shirt and tug it on; it’s not something he wants to discuss with Tim just yet.

Barbara watches him, lips pursed in worry and disapproval, but he could care less about the latter. She knows his thoughts on this, and she’ll respect them.

Tim strides in and then slows like he’s wondering if he’s supposed to knock or not.  

“How are you doing?” he asks, hesitant like he’s afraid expressing concern will set Jason off like a bomb.

Guilt hits him at that, but he forces himself to remain calm and blank-faced. “Fine.”

“I have to go,” Barbie announces, maneuvering her chair toward the door. “I need to go back to the Cave and check on Dick’s condition. I don’t know how long it will be before he tries to escape or pull something to keep from going nuts.”

“Also, it’d be nice if this month was one of the ones where Alfred doesn’t get knocked out,” Tim suggests with false levity.

“Or lose a hand,” Jason mutters darkly.

“Exactly. And whether he knows it or not, Feathers downstairs gave me some ideas about how to remove the arrow,” Barbie says as they leave the med bay.

“I should come with you.”

“No.” Both Barbara and Tim speak at the same time, but she’s the one that keeps talking. “You should stay here.”

“Not sure that’s the best idea.”

“I think it is,” Tim counters. “It will keep us out of everyone’s hair and they’ll know where we are.” His tone is reasonable—too reasonable; clearly Timmy has some ulterior motives.

Whether those motives are to circumvent Bruce or Jason’s plans, he doesn’t care. But one thing is for sure. “They can know where we are if we’re at the manor.”

And isn’t that a reversal—Jason being the one to insist on that?

I need to have people around because I don’t trust myself right now.

The mutinous expression is back on Tim’s face, before he visibly switches tactics.

“Okay, how about this,” he suggests, tone only a shade off exasperated. “Why don’t you go lie down somewhere and try to catch a few hours' sleep? If you’re sleeping, you’re not doing anything else, right? And then we’ll either go back to the Cave or see if anyone can be spared to chaperone here.”

“There’s no need for that,” a voice says, and they all look up to see Damian stride in still in full Robin-gear.

Tim scowls. “How did you get in here?”

“It was fairly simple,” the kid snorts. “A fish tank, Drake? Really?”

Tim looks like he wants to protest, but Jason chuckles. “It was kind of obvious, babybird.”

“You can barely take care of yourself, and you expect someone with a brain to believe you have the patience to care for fish?” the boy continues. “Exactly who do you think has been feeding them when you forget?”

Tim gapes. “You…break into my apartment…to feed my fish?”

Jason can’t help the loud guffaw that escapes at that, earning two equally unimpressed glares in return. He doesn’t care—that might be the funniest thing he’s heard in days.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Barbara says and wheels out of the room. “Try not to kill each other, boys. Alfred would be unhappy about it.”

“Luckily, we are standing in a well-stocked room with several methods for resuscitating a dead body,” Damian replies easily.

“Don’t you have school?” Tim grumbles.

“It’s Sunday, Drake.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“I have been sent to babysit you two and put Todd down with extreme prejudice should he try anything.

Which Tim gapes and, while Jason is…kind of relieved about.

“Aw, Dami, I knew you cared,” he teases.

“Don’t address me with that infantile drivel!”

Tim sighs.

“Just don’t set anything on fire while you’re here…”

  ⁂⁂⁂

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Next Chapter

[ficsxreaderr]

Music to my Eyes [4]

Pairing: Single dad!Bucky Barnes x reader. (Modern day AU)

Summary: As a simple worker at a record store, there’s so much  you want to do in life yet, which doesn’t involve a serious relationship  and much less a relationship with a guy who’s a father. Once you meet  Bucky Barnes you’re not sure you can live up to that anymore.

Warnings: None? Fluff?

Requests are open. Tagging for a permanent list and this fic are open.

Reblogging and feeback are welcome and appreciated!

Series masterlist | Masterlist

The thoughts you had last night still wander around your head, and given you couldn’t put them to rest, you get up early to visit Sam before the place gets too crowded.

“Heeeeeeey,” He says, rather loudly, as he hears the bell ring, making you smile.

“Hi, Sam.” You use a fake-annoyed tone and roll your eyes. He’s placing some records that came in this morning apparently, since the box beside him is still full, so you decide to help him.

“So…you stayed at his place until late, what happened?” He nudges you and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Nothing happened, Sam! We…talked and I kind of said I wanted a therapy session…” You press your lips in a thin line, waiting for Sam to say something but all he does is release a laugh. “Don’t laugh! I’m serious, I…don’t know what I’m doing, Sam, I just blurt out what I feel when I’m with him. It’s annoying.” You sigh deeply and he finally stops laughing.

“Wait, has he texted you today?”

“He hasn’t! And that’s why I feel like an idiot, he’s right not to talk to me, I wouldn’t want to talk to me.”

“Do you want to know why he hasn’t talked to you?” He quirks up an eyebrow and you shrug as if what he’s about to say has no effect on you. “Because he’s as much as an idiot as you are!”

“Well, thanks?” You widen your eyes and cross your arms over your chest.

“No, I mean, he’s probably into you too and he has no idea what to do because he hasn’t dated since Sarah’s mother.”

“Where is she anyways? You know what, I don’t want to know because I’m not trying to date him, it’s just too much for me.” You shrug and return to your task, but then get interrupted by your phone ringing. You leave the records in their place and when you look at the screen your body freezes and you get a quick impulse to decline, but you don’t. After three rings, you roll your eyes at Sam who’s already smiling at you and finally pick up.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, hi, it’s me.” Even if you hadn’t had his contact, you would’ve recognized his voice saying your name in a heartbeat. “Listen, about the session we talked about last night…” He’s cancelling! Yes!

“Oh, yeah, you know what, if you don’t have time today it’s okay, we barely mentioned it, it’s no big deal.”

“No, no.” He quickly cuts you off. “I just wanted to say I have time at 4 PM if that’s okay with you.”

“Oh…” You close your eyes for a moment, biting your lip as you think of a response.

“But I understand if you don’t…”

“No, it’s…4 PM is okay, I’ll be there…” You let out a breath you hope he doesn’t hear, and you glance at Sam to find he’s covering his mouth to refrain from laughing.

“Great! I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah, see you later.” You hang up and groan in frustration.

“What the hell was that? You got a date?”

“No, it’s the stupid session I stupidly mentioned last night.” You put your fists at your hips and shake your head.

“I thought you didn’t want to be with him, why did you agree?”

“I don’t know, Sam! I wish I knew.” You throw your arms in the air and then run a hand through your hair. “He speaks and asks shit and suddenly I can’t say no, it’s like a curse. I’m like a 15-year old in love.” Sam and you widen your eyes at the same time and you cover his mouth before he says something. “NO! NO! I did NOT say I’m in love with him, I just said like, I’m not in love with him.” You shake your head as you take your hand off his mouth and he laughs for the billionth time at you.

“Okay, whatever you say, honey.” He holds up his hands and you snatch a record from him, which tempts you to hit him with it. “Don’t hit me with that if you’re not paying it.” He points a threatening finger at you and you hand it back and cover your face with your hands.

“I hate myself, Sam.” You mumble and then uncover your face. “You should slap me for being such an idiot.”

/

Bucky went to bed last night thinking about how you’re not going to see him as something more than a friend, he kept playing the image of you walking away in his head, the way you said you had to leave in the exact moment he knew he had to kissed you. He remembers Sarah waking up for a moment as he tuck her in and saying, “Daddy, I think Y/N really likes you. She smiles a lot when you talk.” He didn’t respond to that, he simply told her to get to sleep and kissed her forehead before turning off the main light and leaving the room.

He went to bed with your voice in his head, with the memory of your skin against his when you held hands, he wonders what you’re doing to him, he can only hope you think of him that way but he quickly erases that thought, I’ve only seen her twice, he thinks.

Sarah jumps over his bed and startles him, and he quickly throws away the covers and sits up.

“Sarah, what are you doing? I’ve told you not to do this, you can hurt yourself.” He speaks firmly, making her sit in front of him.

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he rubs his eyes with the back of his hand and gets up, putting on a t-shirt.

“Daddy, I want waffles for breakfast.” She doesn’t move from his bed and he bends over and brushes off strands of hair from her face as he smiles to her.

“Whatever you want.” He kisses her forehead and then picks her up, carrying her on his hip.

“Is Y/N coming today? I like her a lot and we have fun with her, don’t we?”

“Yes, sweetie, we do, but I’m not sure if she’s coming, I’ll have to call her.” Bucky responds as he walks downstairs and to the kitchen.

“Then call her! You can be alone with her today if I’m going to Uncle Steve’s.” Sarah bites her thin lip in excitement, making her father chuckle as he puts her down on a chair.

“Alright, I’ll call her but I can’t promise she’ll come.”

/

It’s 4:05 when you ring the bell, you’re never unpunctual but this time you didn’t want to seem so eager to get there and scare him off, so you take a deep breath and wait. A few seconds later he opens the door and you feel air has been knocked out of your lungs at the sight of him wearing black scrubs with James Barnes embroidered at his chest.

“Hey.” His wide grin warms your heart and eases your anxiety. He steps aside to let you in and you do, still silently.

“Hi.” You finally speak. You brain has clearly stopped as you can’t think of anything to say.

“Come in, you can leave your bag on the hanger.” He points at it and you decide to leave your jacket too.

“Where’s Sarah?” You finally came back to Earth as you walk behind him to the kitchen.

“She’s spending the weekend with Steve and Peggy.” He looks back at you and you quickly separate your hands as you were squeezing them in nervousness. “Can I get you anything? Are you hungry?”

“Um, no, I’m good, maybe just something to drink.” You don’t want to bother, much less today that you feel a lot less confident than last night. He nods and opens the fridge to take out a pitcher of lemonade and pours both of you a glass. You thank him and take a sip, wondering if it’s too much of stupid small talk to compliment how good it is.

“So, do you work at one place or freelance all the time?” You ask, at the risk of asking the wrong thing.

“I work at a place not far from here from Monday to Thursday and then the other days I freelance…like today.” He clears his throat and you finally realize he’s probably as hesitant as you are, but he’s much better at hiding it. How you wish he had gave you alcohol to loosen up a bit.

“That’s great! Extra money is always good.” Bucky curses himself for pouring full glasses of lemonade because it feels like an eternity before either of you is done drinking, but he discreetly takes big sips so it’s over soon. He doesn’t know it, but you’re doing the exact same thing and after a painfully long moment, both of you are done. He takes both glasses and puts them in the dishwasher.

“Follow me.” He speaks with an easier tone and you oblige. You see he’s set the table in the living room, where he’s moved the couches and the coffee table to make some space. He gestures for you to sit and you do, waiting for him to give another instruction but you just wish you could cut the tension. “Um, some people like to…take off their shirts because it’s more comfortable but I also have a gown…like a hospital gown that’s comfortable too and that way you don’t have to…”

“Uh, yeah, the gown’s fine.” You respond before he says anything else and he nods and walks away from you, to go get the gown. You let out a breath once he’s out of sight and cover your face with your hands in exasperation. What the hell are you doing? You hear his footsteps approaching and put your hands down, pretending to be looking away.

“Here it is. You can change in the bathroom or…here and I can…look away.” He hands you the gown and you take it, hoping he doesn’t see your hand shake.

“Um…you can look away…it’s just my shirt so it’ll be quick.” You hope you didn’t come out too strong by saying you practically want to strip off your clothes in front of him…or behind him…anyways, he gives you a smile that indicates he’s not freaked out by you and nods, turning on his heel and telling you to start whenever you’re ready. You take a deep breath before taking off your button-up shirt, which you now officially hate because you couldn’t have chosen a worse shirt to wear today.

“I’m done.” You speak with a lower voice than you’d like and he slowly turns around and walk towards you again.

“Alright, so, you’ll want to be laying with your face down, resting your forehead here.” He pats on the head rest and you do as he says, making yourself comfortable. “Are you okay there?” He asks.

“Yeah, I am.” You reply and wait for him to start.

“Okay, so where exactly are you having trouble? You can try to point at the spot and I’ll make sure to find it.”

“Um…I think it’s at the middle, at the side of my spine, I’m not sure if it’s my muscles or my bones…” You speak and roll your eyes at yourself for having no idea how to interact with a human being at this particular moment.

The way his hands fall over your back like a feather makes you flinch and he doesn’t move for a moment.

“Is everything okay? Are my hands too cold?”

“No…no, everything’s fine.” You respond.

“Alright, you tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” You hum as you understand and he continues. He starts by looking for the right spot and he doesn’t even need to ask you when he’s sure he’s found a huge knot right below your shoulder blade and he’s glad you can’t see how his lips curl up in a smile when he sees your shoulders relax at his touch.

An hour goes by but it didn’t feel like it, Bucky’s got the softest and most gentle hands, he’s really an expert at what he does, and he even made you forget you have feelings for him at least for that hour. You dozed off, you’ve never been more relaxed and at peace than today, and you’re sure it’s not only because of getting therapy but because he made you feel like that with his presence. He won’t say it, but he relaxed along with you, he felt an energy that he’s never felt before, he wished he had told you it could last longer than an hour because his heart stopped the moment the clock hit 5:10.

Once he’s let you put your shirt back on, he turns around and helps you hop off from the table. You smile at him and he gestures to the couch, and you both sit facing each other.

“How do you feel?” His eyes look lazy, and his smirk is captivating, every single time you look at it.

“I feel…amazing, you’re a true expert.” You chuckle nervously, fidgeting with your ring, unable to look away from the blue of his eyes. He chuckles too, discreetly sliding some inches closer to you, but you don’t even think of moving, unconsciously, you’ve been wanting him to do that.

“I’m glad I could help.” Both of you smirk, and his beautiful features are just as relaxing as the massage you just had. “Do you want to stay for dinner? Sarah kind of ditched me tonight.”

“Oh, so I’m just your backup?” You tease him, crossing your arms over your chest, making him chuckle.

“No, it’s not like that.” He shakes his head. “Please, stay, I enjoy your company.” If he only knew how much you enjoy his.

/

“So, I got to ask, when did you learn how to cook?” You take a sip of wine and wipe your lips with a napkin, sitting back on the chair after you’ve finished your food.

“Um, actually Steve’s mother taught…us.” He responds as he takes a sip of wine, too.

“Steve’s mom? You guys go way back, don’t you?”

“Yeah, we’ve been friends for as long as I can remember.” He shrugs. “She was on her own so she taught us so we could take care of ourselves if we were ever alone.” You smile at the thought of a very young Bucky standing beside a woman and learning to cook and maybe lots of other things to make it on his own. He tilts his head to one side and frowns, “What’s that smile for?” His voice deepens.

“Nothing, I just think it was so nice from her to teach you. She did a great job.” He chuckles, leaning over to rest his elbow on the table and rest his face on his palm.

“I’m glad you liked it.” He stares for a moment and the smile you’re holding makes him feel lucky, just to be around you, to share things like these with you and feeling like he can share so much more without blinking.

“I did.” You cross your arms over the table and fix your eyes on his for a moment. The thought of kissing him quickly crosses your mind but that’s all it does because you erase it in a second. Take it easy, Y/N.

“So, how did you meet Sam?” He asks, thankfully continuing with the conversation so there’s no more tense moments between you.

“Um, he was new at the store and I had to train him for a while. As you might expect, he kind of hit on me but well, you know Sam, he can hit on anything that walks so I noticed that and decided to make him my friend.” You shrug, making him laugh.

“He hit on you? What line did he use?”

“I don’t even remember, it was stupid but he’s a nice guy and a very reliable friend.” And he led me to you.

“Y/N, I…was thinking.” He clears his throat as you frown, waiting. “I’m having this Tuesday off work and I’m going out with Sarah, she really likes you and I’d like you to come with us to have lunch and perhaps some coffee.” Is he asking you out?

“Oh,” You chuckle. “I have to work that day but I’ll definitely ask for the day off, I’d love to go if it doesn’t mean I’m interrupting the only day you have alone with your daughter.” You’re dying to go on a date with Bucky, and maybe it’s not exactly what you should be doing if you wanted to stay away in the first place, but he’s asking you to go with his daughter and you can’t tell him no to his face.

“Y/N, you’re not interrupting, I want you to go.” He smiles softly, instantly warming your heart and earning a huge grin from you.

“Okay, I’ll call you on Monday to let you know if I find someone to cover for me.” You sigh deeply and realize, you better get out of here before any of you kisses the other and it leads somewhere you don’t want it to go. “Bucky, I should go, it’s getting late.” You press your lips in a thin line, reluctant of leaving, but he simply nods.

“I know.” He says in almost a murmur. “I could drive you tonight, Sarah’s not here.” He frowns in expectancy that you might say no, he doesn’t want you to say no, he wants to drive you and spend just a few more moments with you. He’s so infatuated. Damn him and his eyes to which you can’t say no to. You hate yourself, you know you don’t want to get involved with him but you let him in, and it’s not fair.

“That would be nice.”

/

The memories of a wonderful night keep playing in your head, just like those dreams that are so perfect that you can remember them so vividly when you open your eyes in the morning. It’s all so easy with Bucky, talking, sharing, laughing, it’s natural. It’s almost…unreal. You wish you had met Bucky at a different time of your life…or his life, before he was a dad, and you hate that you wish for that but it’s the only way it would be easier for you to be falling for him like you are. Sunday feels like a hangover, a memory hangover. You spent the entire time you’re cooking breakfast thinking of him and how he probably wants a family, a mother to his child, not just some stupid fling. Wait, but you don’t want just a stupid fling either, he means more to you than that. After so many thoughts about your life, his life, and how different they are, you decide you’re not going to lunch with him on Tuesday, you can’t keep playing this stupid game with him or yourself. You need to stop seeing him and that’s final.

| Tagging some members of the fam I think might enjoy this (feel free to ask me to remove your tag)

@sebbbystaaan @chloerinebarnes @stuckonjbbarnes @mushyjellybeans @honeyvbarnes @babblingbonky​ @mrwinterr @valkyriesryde​ @mypassionsarenysins​ @livyourextralife​

Permanent taglist: @imma-new-soul​

Fic taglist: @eliza5616​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​  @93generation​

[whumppile]

I’ll pray that sleep comes easy

(AN: I accidentally came up with this idea this morning when I was trying to get back to sleep and since I've finally got a day off I got to write it yay!just a little warning this does have a little bit of 'recovering alcoholic tony' so if that's going to trigger anything for you be safe and maybe skip this story? Love you all)

“Tony, you need to sleep.”

The mechanic ignored Rhodey’s very sound advice and reached for a bottle from the shelf, fingers dancing over labels until he’d found a whiskey he liked. 

“What I need is a drink and some Ritalin.”

Rhodey snatched the bottle out of Tony’s hand, anger thinning his patience out faster than usual. “You promised Pepper you’d stop this.”

Tony reached for it again, sour mood worsened by being told what to do in his own lab. “She’s used to it.”

Rhodey evaded his grasp and tried again, tone lower as he held Tony’s gaze. “Peter’s not and you promised him too.”

That was a low blow but not a word of it was a lie and that's what hurt the most. Tony blew out an irritated breath as he walked away, throwing an arm out and sweeping bits of scattered projects from his workbench.

He was throwing a tantrum and he knew it but the loud clang of metal as it crashed onto the floor was cathartic and that was enough of an excuse for his guilt to let it slide. 

Rhodey sighed. “He’s fine. We got him out.”

Tony rubbed a hand over his face, still turned away from his friend as he shook his head. “He should never have been there in the first place. That building should have never come down. He should never have been put through that again!”

His words turned into shouts by the end of it and he turned to face Rhodey, hands trembling as he crumbled just a little, voice softening. 

“I should have saved him this time. I was right there and he had the suit but it wasn’t enough.”

He was quiet, pleading with Rhodey like he could turn back time and fix it but he couldn't. 

Rhodey, having known the man long enough to know that the anger was gone and all that was left was the hurt, stepped forward and gripped Tony by his shoulders. 

“You can’t protect him from everything.” 

He knew that but it wouldn't stop him from trying.

“He wasn’t in there for long, Tones and you made Friday and Bruce do every scan and test they could. He’s okay.”

:::::::::

Peter was fine. I mean, the cast on his arm was annoying and he still had a headache from the concussion he’d gotten when the roof collapsed on him. But the deep cuts over his face had healed enough that he’d graduated from bandages to the bright teenage mutant ninja turtle bandaids Bruce got him. 

And sure, having a building collapse on him in the middle of a mission was NOT the way he’d wanted his Friday night to go but he was okay. Really. He just wished the fear and panic from it would go away.

It was bad enough that he’d been buried under rubble but when that rubble reminded him of another collapsed building it just ramped up the anxiety. And having a panic attack through coms and begging for Tony to save him while the Avengers could all hear was just embarrassing. 

Peter wasn’t sure if he was ever going to be able to look them in the eye again. And to make matters worse he’d freaked Tony out so bad the man had refused to sleep for the past three days. 

The sound of his own voice cracking as he’d sobbed for Tony rang through his head again and he shook it away. 

“Mr Stark, you gotta help me, please! I’m stuck! I can’t get out! I can’t breathe! Help me!”

God, he should have just shut up and waited quietly. 

The other Avengers hadn’t made fun of him, not even Sam and Bucky, they had all just shouted to him over the coms, telling him they were getting him out. 

Tony had sounded frantic, digging through rubble with his hands until the paint on his suit had scraped off. When he’d finally dug the teenager out he’d grabbed him in a hug and held on until Peter had finally stopped crying. 

Great work Spider-man. 

“I bet Black Widow never cries when she gets trapped.” He’d muttered it to himself, sulking in his room and unaware of the other Avenger in his doorway. 

“No, but she does insist on being knocked out for any dentist appointment longer than a cleaning.”

Peter turned around at the voice to see Clint leaning on the door frame. Peter didn’t say anything as the archer strolled into his room and took a seat on the chair next to Peters bed. 

“Look, kid, we all have trauma and shit that scares us. A kid your age shouldn’t have two building’s collapse on them in their lifetime let alone one. No one's going to look down on you because you freaked out. We would have been more worried if you hadn’t.”

Peter looked down at his sneakers and scratched idly at the bandaid on his cheek, anxiety rippling through him. “I just feel bad that I worried Mr Stark so much. I know he’s not sleeping. I heard Miss Pots talking to Dr Banner about it.”

Clint watched the droop of Peters' shoulders before nodding. There was no use lying to the kid. 

“Yeah, but we’ll get him sorted. He’ll be okay.”

Peter kicked at the carpet, annoyed at himself. “Yeah but it’s my fault. I just keep screwing things up and getting in the way and-”

Clint smacked the back of his hand against Peters' shoulder, frowning at the weight the kid was putting on himself. “Hey, you didn’t screw anything up. The building collapsed while you were evacuating people from it. You got everyone out and you got yourself to the safest place you could before it came down. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Peter sniffled, wiping a hand over his nose as his eyes stung with tears he really didn’t want to fall. 

“But Mr Stark-”

Clint leaned an elbow on his knee as he leaned forward, searching for Peters' eyes were they stayed glued to his shoelaces. “Peter, Tony has had a lot of people that he cared about, and that were supposed to care about him, let him down. You are not and could never be one of them. Do you know how many kids I have?”

Peter sniffed, not seeing the relevance. “Three?”

Clint nodded. “Now that makes me an expert Dad so let me let you in on a secret about the whole parent thing, okay?”

He'd never said it out loud, he'd been too afraid of losing it if he named it but Peter did see Tony as his dad and he wiped a hand over his eyes as he leaned forward, listening eagerly. 

Clint looked into the teenager’s eyes and wished he didn’t see so much loss in them. 

He softened his voice and let a small smile lift his features. “There is nothing in this world that we wouldn't do for our kids. Not all parents are good ones but the ones that are, like yours were, like Tony is, would give up everything just to make sure you’re okay. So, trust me when I say Tony doesn’t want you blaming yourself or feeling bad. Especially when it’s not your fault.”

Peter’s mouth tugged down at the sides and he ducked his head down like he was fighting against tears. Clint stood and took a seat next to Peter on his bed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and letting him collect himself. 

It took a few minutes before Peter sniffed and blinked the tears away, taking a breath and evening out his voice enough to ask. “Hey, Mr Hawkeye? If Mr Starks my dad, what does that make you?”

Clint smiled and squeezed him tight. “Your crazy awesome uncle.”

Peter laughed, letting his shoulders shake with it in Clint's hold and he felt a little better.

That was until night came. 

::::::

Tony sat at his desk and stared at the shelf of liquor he’d made Rhodey leave alone. 

He should have gotten rid of them, he knew that. They were just a temptation and he wanted to stay sober for all the people that he needed to protect from his stupid drunk self but nothing else calmed his roaring anxiety like the burn of alcohol and he was weak.  

It was three AM and while it was the fourth night he hadn’t slept, he didn’t plan on changing that. 

Sleep led to nightmares which lead to panic attacks and he wasn’t signing up for his brains thrilling rerun of Peter trapped in that building, thank you very much. 

He saw it enough during the day. God, the kid's screams and sobs through the coms had almost killed him. 

But he shouldn't drink. He couldn't, he promised. 

“That building on the south side’s come down.”

Deep breaths, Stark. 

“Wait, where’s Peter?”

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

“I don’t- I think he’s-”

He's fine. He’s fine.

“TELL ME HE'S NOT IN THAT BUILDING!”

God, someone make it stop.

“Mr Stark, help me!”

Fuck he really was sleep deprived. That one had sounded so real. 

Tony jumped up from his seat and stormed over to the line of sins on the shelf, pulling the vodka down. He hated himself the second he touched it but that didn’t stop him from reaching for the lid. 

“Please! I’m trapped!”

Tony’s head snapped up, heart thundering hard in his chest because...fuck. That wasn’t a hallucination or a flashback. That was real. 

He dropped the bottle, too panicked to even be aware of the shattering glass and spray of spirits across the floor as he ran. 

“Friday, where’s Peter?”

The AI answered as her creator sprinted from his lab, nothing else on his mind but his need to get to his kid. Right. The Fuck. Now. 

“In his bedroom, Boss.”

Shit, had someone broken in? Had something happened? Were they under attack?

Tony’s legs had never carried him faster and he barreled his way into Peter's room, ready to kill whoever he needed to keep Peter safe only to find there was no intruder. There was no alien or death squad, no dangerous threat of any kind. 

Peter was asleep and having a nightmare. 

The kid was tangled in sheets, crying out and thrashing as he struggled to free himself from his cotton prison. 

Tony was frozen in the doorway for a second, brain trying to catch up with the fact that Peter was in fact safe. He didn’t move until one of Peters screams of terror broke into a sob. 

“Da-a-ad!” 

Tony didn’t need to think about what he needed to do, that word snapped something inside of him awake and he jolted forward the few meters to Peters bed. 

“Peter, wake up.” 

He reached for him, tearing his sheets away and gripping his arms, shaking him a little, trying to rouse him from his horror-filled dreamscape. 

“Peter!”

The teenager’s sobs stuttered as his eyes snapped open and he lay frozen on the bed, hyperventilating for the second it took for his eyes to register Tony in front of him. 

“You’re okay, Pete. It was just a nightmare.”

His face crumpled once he realised who it was that was gripping him and he started crying all over again, reaching for his mentor with sleep clumsy fingers. 

“Mr Stark.” 

Tony took a seat on the bed and pulled the kid until he was sitting up, trembling beneath his hands. He wrapped his arms around him, rocking the two of them as Peter wet his shirt with huge heaving sobs. 

“I w-was back there and I couldn’t get out. I couldn’t find you.”

“You’re okay. You’re safe now, kiddo. I gotcha.”

Tony pulled in deep slow breaths as he tried to calm the residual waves of panic leftover from his scare. “Just breathe, Pete. We’re okay.”

The poor boy was shaking against his chest and while Tony felt like crying too he didn’t have time for his own meltdown. With his arms still around the sobbing teenager, because he was clever like that, he took his anxiety demon and put it in a vibranium box and sealed it. That little shit wasn't getting out until he knew Peter was okay. 

He steadied himself with another deep breath and softened his voice, forcing it to be as steady and calm as it had ever been. He held Peter close and brushed a hand over the back of his head, fingers massaging the soft curls that lay at the back of the boy's neck. 

“I’m right here, Petey. I’m not leaving you. You’re okay.”

Peter’s crying was quietening down, settling into small whimpers and sniffles against Tony’s chest but his back was still jumping up under his mentor's hands with each jerky gasp and Tony held tight. 

He kept up the steady stream of reassurances to soothe himself as much as Peter, making sure the kid knew he wasn't going to let go until he was ready. 

The room was dark and Tony found his eyes blinking slower and slower as he held the shivering boy. Peters' fingers were already curled securely into his shirt so he felt like he'd be okay to move around a bit. 

He held Peter to his chest, making it clear he didn’t have to let go as he repositioned them, swinging his legs onto the mattress and leaning back against Peters headboard. 

“We’re okay. You’re safe with me, Pete.”

He reached a hand down and pulled the comforter from where Peters thrashing had let it slip to the side, and pulled it over the both of them, tucking it around his ward. 

Although it had been his job to make Peter feel better he found that not only had he managed to lock his anxiety away but Peters weight against his chest had silenced it completely. 

The teenager was warm and safe in his arms and he let himself relax against the headboard, small puffs of air against his neck smoothing out and deepening as the kid calmed down. 

Peter lifted his good wrist to his eyes and wiped the tears away, wishing he would stop hiccuping so pathetically. He should have felt more embarrassed but Mr Stark hadn’t even blinked an eye at holding him and it was the only thing making him feel better. 

The comforting ramble of reassurances had quieted as his own crying had and although Mr Stark had made himself comfy there on his bed, Peter was worried that he’d pull away any second and leave him in the dark again. 

He really didn’t want him to leave. 

He hid his face in his mentor's shirt and scrounged up the scattered bits of courage he had left to get his voice to work. 

“M-Mr Stark?”

Tony’s arms tightened against him minutely but there was no answer and Peter closed his eyes as he pushed the small words out into the air.

“Can you stay? I don’t want to be by myself.”

The room was quiet and Peter suddenly felt as if he’d dropped every bit of bravery he’d managed to find. He pulled away, sitting up as he backtracked, wiping a hand over his face. 

“Forget about it. You don’t have to- I’m being stupid and-”

Of all the things that could have come out of Tony’s mouth to interrupt him he never thought it would be a snore. 

He sat there on Tony’s knee, the man's arms still looped around him, and stared in amazement at the sleeping face of one Tony Stark. 

He was out like a light, head leaning back, soft snores coming from his mouth and Peter smiled. 

They were okay, the both of them. 

Peter tugged the blanket back up his shoulders and laid back down on Tony’s chest, curling up in his arms as Tony instinctively wrapped his arms back around him. 

“Night, Dad.” 

And finally, for the first time in three days, the two of them slept through the night. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20010922

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13348917/1/

let me know what you think?

[angelofthequeers]

Ladybug and Reine Nuit: Chapter 20

Pixelator

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Okay so I’m extra salty about ‘Animaestro’ and That Guy’s self-insert tantrum but by god am I gay for Buninette

I really don’t like Pixelator, but I do need to introduce Uncle Jagged within this story’s universe, so…yeah, I basically used the necessary intro scene.

@miraculousl4dybug @livinthebilife tagged as requested :)

Check out my Ko-fi for writing commissions!

Chapter 19 | Chapter 21

“I like it!” Tikki chirps. Marinette hums in indecision as she turns her head, examining her reflection from all angles.

“I haven’t worn a bun in years,” she says. “I found the pigtails way cuter and easier. I’m not even sure why I decided to try this today.”

“The bun makes you look cute too!” Tikki says. “You look cute and mature. Not that I don’t like your pigtails!”

“No, no, I know what you mean.” Marinette twirls a lock of hair framing her face to give it a slight wave. “I actually kind of like it.”

“Well, you’ve got about two more minutes to decide before you’re officially running late.”

“What?” Marinette springs into action to grab the nearest pair of jeans and a flowy pink top that’s just big enough to tie it at her waist fashionably. Once she’s dressed, she snatches up her purse and tries to balance hopping down the stairs with pulling on her usual ballet flats, which she thankfully pulls off without tripping and breaking her neck.

For once, she’s actually not late to school, which is probably thanks to Tikki keeping track of time because heaven knows Marinette can’t. She’s still sweaty by the time she makes it there, though, and she needs to collapse on the stairs outside the front of the school to catch her breath. Not only is she not late but…she’s early. She actually has time to relax beforehand rather than freaking out and trying to get to class.

“Dupain-Cheng,” sneers a familiar voice as a shadow looms over her. Marinette rolls her eyes and looks up to see Chloé blocking the sun, hands on hips and smirking widely.

“What now, Chloé?” Marinette sighs. Chloé reaches out and flicks Marinette’s bun.

“After what happened last year, I’m surprised you’ve got the nerve to wear that thing again,” she says. Oh, that’s right. That’s why Marinette’s been wearing pigtails. Her hair used to be long…until Chloé had thought it would be very funny to stick a wad of gum in her bun. As a livid Sabine had carefully and soothingly cut a bawling Marinette’s hair to the length it is now, that’s one of the only times Marinette can remember being terrified of her usually quiet, cheerful mother.

“It’s called change, Chloé,” Marinette says. “Something you don’t seem to understand. You can’t even be nice when it’s Adrien asking.”

“Adrikins and I will always be friends,” Chloé scoffs. “Even if he’s being utterly ridiculous right now. I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand true friendship like ours.”

“Are you done?” Marinette’s not even annoyed at this point. Honestly, Chloé’s daily antics have just grown exhaustingly bland with the knowledge that she’ll never change and that she’ll just keep being the same old nasty girl, even when she’s lost both her best friends. It’s not like she’s harmless, what with how many people she’s bullied to the point of vulnerability to Hawkmoth. Just…more like a mosquito hanging around and buzzing, rather than a venomous snake constantly striking and biting.

“I’m sorry, am I boring you, Dupain-Cheng?” Chloé says.

“It’s old, Chloé.” Marinette stands up, brushing the dirt off her blue jeans. “You show up, say some mean things, then walk off laughing while I get angry. You can’t even be original when it comes to bullying me.” She turns to head into school.

“Original?” Chloé storms in front of Marinette to block her way with crossed arms and a dangerous scowl. “I am original! Everyone looks up to me! I’m original and exceptional and you’re just a ridiculous –”

“Oh, back off, Chloé,” says Alya from behind Chloé, her arms crossed. Marinette climbs to her feet. “Picking on Marinette is the least original thing about you. Although you are exceptional at being a bully.”

With a snarl, Chloé shoves Marinette out of her way as she storms up the stairs. Marinette shrieks and teeters on the edge of the step, then topples forward and would have cracked her head and ribs if not for Alya rushing to grab her.

“Um…thanks!” Marinette says with a sheepish grin. “Nice reflexes!”

Alya just smirks and pulls Marinette back to her feet. “I gotta have good reflexes with you around, girl. Love the bun, by the way.”

Marinette rolls her eyes with a grin as they head after Chloé at a more sedate pace.

“Marinette!”

Marinette and Alya pause at the top of the steps to let Nino catch up. Before Marinette can react, Nino’s throwing his arms around her and saying, “Thanks again for getting Reine Nuit to take me to see Luka, dude.”

Marinette smiles as warmth blossoms in her belly. “Of course, Nino. I’m glad she could help.”

“Sorry, wait, what exactly am I missing?” Alya says with her hands on her hips.

“Never mind,” Marinette says as Nino releases her. “Just something I did for Nino.”

The three of them head inside for class as the bell rings, Alya pestering Nino for details the whole way there. They’re the last ones into the room, which has erupted in drama with half their classmates on one side and the other half on the other side. Only Chloé’s sitting separate from the drama, painting her nails with a scowl.

“Uh, what’s going on?” Alya says.

“My last video got nuked for graphic violence,” Adrien says sullenly. “Again. I’m losing subscribers because people don’t see the point in sticking around for someone whose videos keep getting taken down.”

“Uh, I can help you make your own blog,” Alya says. “Then you can post whatever. Why didn’t you ask me before?”

“It didn’t occur to me!” Adrien’s eyes start to sparkle. “You’d do that for me, Alya?”

“Yes, yes, because I am a kind and gracious queen.” Alya sits down next to Adrien and pulls out her laptop.

“I get the feeling that’s not what the drama is about,” Marinette says. She’s immediately confronted by Alix, whose eyes are narrowed at her.

“Which team are you on?” Alix demands. Marinette blinks.

“Um…what?”

“Which. Team?” Alix says. She jabs her thumb at the people on Adrien’s side of the room. “Those losers think that Ladrien is where it’s at. But we are dedicated LadyNuit fans.”

“Ladrien? LadyNuit?” Marinette stares at Nino, who just shrugs.

“Ship names!” Rose chirps from the LadyNuit side. “Ladybug with Reine Nuit, or Ladybug with Adrien!”

“Wait, as in…romantic?” Nino says.

“Oh, come on!” Ivan says. “Adrien’s always running after Ladybug! And she’s always saving him! He’s the Lois Lane to her Superman!”

“Yes, there is an eighty six percent chance of Ladybug and Adrien eventually realising their feelings for each other within the next year, what with their obvious fondness for each other,” Max says, adjusting his glasses. “LadyNuit only ranks at –”

“Excuse you, but Reine Nuit is Ladybug’s partner,” Juleka says. “They’d die for each other. They’ve always got each other’s backs.”

“You weren’t there when they kissed!” Kim boasts. “But I was!”

Marinette freezes as ice coats her insides. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Alya’s cheeks darken furiously. “K-Kissed?” she says.

“Yep!” Kim slides down to the front of the room and slings an arm around Marinette, no doubt thinking that he can lure her to the LadyNuit side. “When I was Dark Cupid and hit Ladybug with an arrow! Reine Nuit kissed her to break the spell after destroying my akuma so she could use Miraculous Ladybug!”

“Because true love defeats hate!” Rose squeals, bouncing up and down.

“It could be platonic love,” Mylène pipes up. “There’s no reason why Reine Nuit’s platonic feelings wouldn’t break the spell.”

As her classmates argue, a dazed Marinette sits down in her usual seat. Nino sits with her, since Alya is currently helping Adrien establish his new blog.

“The Ladyblog!” Alya declares, waving her hands. “It’s perfect!”

“But I like being called Ladybugreste,” Adrien sulks.

“Just use that as your pen name,” Alya says. “And Nino can make up his own name. Duh. Look, you can livestream and upload videos and pictures and posts – I can handle the blog posts, by the way, since I’m the journalist around here – and fans can interact with you and – it’s gonna be so cool!”

“You’re just living vicariously through me, aren’t you?” Adrien says.

“Of course,” Alya grins. “If I can’t be the Ladyblogger then I’ll just have to settle for leading the school blog and nudging my little sunshine apprentice who got in first.”

“Good morning, class!” calls a voice over the din. Everyone immediately shuts up and scrambles to their seats, saying good morning to Ms Bustier as they do so. Alya and Nino switch their seats back in the chaos.

“LadyNuit and Ladrien?” Marinette hisses to Alya, who just shrugs.

“I’m personally on team LadyNuit.”

“Alya!”

.

Apparently, today is their year’s work experience today at Le Grand Paris, although Marinette can’t be sure if she’d just forgotten this or if she’d been actively trying to block it out. The latter seems more likely when their class arrives at the hotel and not only are Alya and Marinette assigned trash sorter and gopher as jobs respectively, but Chloé’s job is specifically to hang around an uncomfortable Adrien and cling to him. This is payback for the confrontation that morning, isn’t it?

“Wow!” Chloé gasps. An annoyed Marinette turns to see what Chloé’s so stunned over, only to feel her jaw drop to the floor at the sight of Jagged Stone walking into the hotel! Jagged Stone is here? Here?

“Mr Stone, welcome to Le Grand Paris Hotel!” André rushes to simper to Jagged Stone. “I am Mayor Bourgeois, the owner of this luxury establishment; in fact, the most luxurious in all of Paris! How might we serve you?”

“How d’you think?” Jagged Stone says in his British accent. Marinette giggles behind her hand. “I didn't just come here to admire your lobby.”

“Jagged would like to check into your most luxurious suite,” says Jagged Stone’s assistant, a woman with bright purple hair that’s still not as bright as Jagged Stone’s.

“And Fang better get a real bathtub, not a tiny water hole like the one in that hotel across the street!” Jagged Stone adds.

“We have everything you need, Ms Fang,” André says to Jagged Stone’s assistant. “Even a state-of-the-art entertainment centre!”

“That’s Penny,” Jagged Stone says. “Fang’s me crocodile.”

André lets out a nervous little laugh at the sight of the collared crocodile at Jagged Stone’s feet. “Mr Stone, we have everything you require for your…Fang. Would he, um…enjoy a bubble bath?”

“Crocodiles don't like bubble baths. That dries their scales out!”

Marinette frowns at Fang as he trots around a large planter box to where a blond man is hidden with a camera. She nudges Alya and points.

“Oh no, not him again,” Jagged Stone groans when the blond man is frightened out of hiding by Fang.

“Remember me, Mr Stone?” the blond says. “Vincent Aza! Just one photo to show everyone in the world that we're best buds! Come on, please! I'm your biggest fan!”

“I know, you've been to my last thirty-six shows,” Jagged Stone snaps. “But we are not friends.”

When Vincent tries to take a photo with Jagged Stone, Penny promptly ejects him from the hotel. Once the stalker fan is gone, André personally escorts Jagged Stone, Penny, and Fang to their room, with Marinette and Ms Bustier following, although Marinette can’t figure out why she’s being dragged along. Not that she’s complaining when she gets to be in the same elevator as Jagged Stone!

“Mr Stone is going to need a new pair of shades for tonight's gig,” Penny says once Jagged is settling into his room by playing hoops with Fang. “Red, white, and blue, with two large Eiffel Towers on them. Can you get that for him?”

“Of course we can!” André says. “Marinette here is our gopher. She'll take care of that for you.”

“Huh?” Marinette says. André leans in to whisper in her ear.

“A gopher is an employee who goes for anything a customer needs. Anything at all. So, go ahead. Goph!”

With a sigh, Marinette trudges out of the room and leans against the wall. “How am I supposed to find those sunglasses?” she complains. “They don’t exist! Ugh, I knew Chloé was setting me up to fail.”

“Then don’t give her that satisfaction,” Tikki says, poking her head out of Marinette’s purse. “So what if they don’t exist? Get creative!”

Marinette gasps as an idea strikes. “You’re right, Tikki!” she says, speeding down the hallway. “Let’s go!”

Once at home, she rummages in her drawer until she finds an old pair of sunglasses, then pops the lenses out and gets to work. It takes the better part of an hour, but she manages to create a pair of sunglasses with two large Eiffel Towers over the lens holes in the French flag colours, and so she runs back to the hotel to deliver them. She’s gasping and panting as she hands them to Penny, who looks a little concerned for her wellbeing but promises to pass them on to Jagged Stone when he’s finished resting.

Just as Marinette’s about to enter the elevator to head back down for her next assignment, a bright flash of light bursts behind her. Her eyes widen at the sight of the bright blue and black figure standing in the doorway to Jagged Stone’s room, and she ducks into the elevator and cries, “Tikki, spots on!” Her work experience is going to have to wait a while. Hopefully she doesn’t fail from lack of effort in the meantime…

.

BONUS:

“I'd like to dedicate this song to the girl who saved my life!” Jagged Stone announces at his concert that night, wearing Marinette’s sunglasses, while everyone in Ms Bustier’s class minus Chloé cheers from the front row. “This one's for you, Ladybug!”

Best. Day. Ever.

[berlinslittlemonster]

Berlin’s little monster.

Chapter 1:

It was the moment where he saw her on the news. His daughter. When he left his first wife because she was pregnant he knew he was doing the wrong thing, but he didn’t want the responsibility of raising a child and take the fact of how his wife turned into a bad human being. Although he wasn’t one of the good guys himself, Andres De Fonollosa just abandoned his family. 

When one day... he found out about his child from the news.  Her robbery was all over the news. She was known as being a professional and an intimidating robber, thief and prostitute. Andres at first couldn’t believe that it was his daughter... It was too good to be true but with all the traits she has, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. How she got away, How she managed to do a robbery, make herself known without face but just a name.... How she managed to get away without even leaving a trace. This girl intrigued him  The news reported that she disappeared and is no where to be found. His eyes staring at the screen in disbelief of what he was hearing, “my girl.. where are you?” he breathed in interest and curiosity.  When the next day.. A knock woke up him from his sleep. Grunting his sleep away, he pushed himself off his bed and made his way to the front door. Hair in a shape of a birds nest. Eyes half open. More knocks were irritating him “I’m coming! I’m coming!” he mumbled before reaching for the door and finding his brother Sergio. “what are we going to do?” Sergio spoke through his anxious brown eyes behind his glasses. “Good morning to you too, little brother. Come on in” Berlin dismissed the nervousness from his brother moving aside to let him through.  “Andres! Your daughter is on the street! Aren’t you the least worried?!” Sergio spoke through shortened breaths while making his way in. “Would you like some coffee?” Berlin once again digressed his brothers worries. “Andres!!” Sergio exclaimed in annoyance of him being ignored. “Sergio! If she has my genes, she can handle herself!” he said waving the coffee pot that was in his hand while the mug was in the other before pouring it. “You see how she managed to do a robbery all on her own! I think she’s perfectly fine!” he placed the coffee pot back in its place before taking his first sip.  “Do you even want to meet her and tell her about what happened? Tell her about how you wanted to talk to her? How much you missed her? Why you left her?!” Sergio said through seethed teeth in frustration. Berlin’s eyes rolled in annoyance and sighed “Don’t you think I would want to find her, little brother? But I can’t! She disappeared! Even the police can’t find her!! Grow up brother!” Berlin now recoiled while holding throwing him a glare.  “ANDRES DON’T YOU DARE TELL ME TO GROW UP!! IT’S YOU WHO LEFT THE FAMILY AND HAVE BEEN IMMATURE TO HANDLE A CHILD!!” Sergio finally retorted in anger. Andres just stared at his brother with a dangerous glare before sighing in defeat “No, you’re right” he mumbled. Sergio just frowned in a split of a second as he saw that his brother didn’t react the way he always would. “I’m sorry?” Sergio asked blinking in disbelief. Andres looked at him and felt tears prick his eyes “You’re right. I... I wasn’t the perfect husband or father. And I’m never going to be now.”  “Andres. You can always make it up for your daughter at least. Find her. Be there for her” Sergio requested eagerly. The black haired father looked away before gulping and looked down at his coffee “Can you help me?” he said not taking his glance off his coffee. Sergio quickly smiled slightly and nodded.  Days passed 

“Sergio! We spent almost 2 weeks trying to find her! I don’t know how else we can do so!” Andres said almost giving up while making his way back inside his house being followed by an exhausted little brother. “No. No. You’re not giving up! You’re going to find her! And you’re going to...” A knock interrupted the younger brothers speech. Andres sighed annoyed before making his way up to the door but as soon as he opened the door.. he liked what he saw “Hello beautiful” Andres licked his bottom lip in satisfaction, towards the long, curly black haired girl with big black eyes looking up at him. “Are you Andres De Fonollosa?” the girl asked.  “Yes. I am him.. and this is my brother Sergio. And who do I have the pleasure to meet?” Andres smirked with flirtation while Sergio waved awkwardly. The girl nodded towards Sergio before looking to and fro between them. “Please, don’t call the cops. But... I’m Alejandra De Fonollosa. I’m your daughter.” the girl said not knowing what else to say. The two brother’s face just straightened. Andres immediately gulped regretting flirting with the girl. Sergio just held his breath in shock as to what he heard just then. “People only know me by my name and not my face. Please. I don’t hurt anyone. I’m not a bad person” she added giving them puppy eyes.  The two brothers just stared at the girl in shock before Berlin slowly turned to glance back at his brother “Or many she’ll find us” he spoke covering up his nerves by being sassy while shrugging. Sergio felt tears brimming his eyes and chuckled. The two men looked back at the girl with sheepish and bright grins before Andres just grabbed the girl and pulled her inside gently. “You’re going to tell me how you did that robbery missy” Andres spoke proudly, holding a proud smirk. Alejandra just looked up at him in confusion “You’re not mad?” she asked seeming lost and confused. “Not at all. In fact... We are in need of another person in a heist if you’re interested.” Andres spoke holding her under his arm. “Andres? What are you doing? I’m not including her in our heist! You and I already breaking the rule of not having any relatives in the heist let alone if you bring your daughter”  “She won’t get involved directly with the robbers, Little brother” Berlin looked towards Sergio. “She’ll be an undercover robber!”  “How?” Sergio calmly asked.  “Yes, how?” Alejandra now asked curiously.  “She’ll be a hostage.. Until we pull her out of her act, ourselves.”  “I’m in!” Alejandra quickly spoke. “No!!” Sergio disagreed “No!! What if she gets hurt? Will you be emotionally stable? Cause I won’t! She’s my freaking niece! I know we don’t know each other that well but knowing she’s blood family will make you and I weak! I know that!”  “Oh come on brother! She can handle herself!!” Andres spoke rubbing his daughters back.  “No!” Sergio repeated in fury. “Come on uncle... Please! I’ll be fine!” Alejandra reassured with an ‘innocent’ look on her face. Sergio just stared at the daughter and father realizing that they are now one... releasing a sigh, Sergio looked down before looking back up at them. “Fine! But you will have to listen to our meetings through an ear piece! You’re not interacting with the others!” Sergio said.  “Done!” Alejandra accepted. “Fine!” Andres subtly disagreeing before looking down at her and kissing her forehead. “I have so many things to say, I don’t even know where to begin!”  “Don’t need to say anything. I know. I uh.. never had a good relationship with my mum... and when I saw you being mentioned in the news for being a mafia member, mum’s face went white... She told me everything. And uh.. I preferred being like my dad than my mum who was a... lying and psychotic bitch” She told him. Andre’s brow cocked upwards “why was she a psychotic bitch?” 

Alejandra looked up at him and sighed “urm.. ever since you left her and I started growing up she um... she used to abuse me.. She didn’t treat me well.. When I saw you on the news.. I knew I had to find you or get your attention in some way so I uh... Made a robbery... Knowing that it’ll get you interested in me but I did not know that you will agree of me taking into your footsteps knowing that it’s a bad thing to do”  Andres’s blood started to boil in anger but he held his breath and calmed down before he spoke “Oh trust me, baby girl.. I don’t mind that.. That’ll just give us something to connect us even more” he said kissing her forehead while cupping her face just smiling proudly at her. “ and don’t worry about your mother... You have me, now. And I’m never gonna hurt you or mistreat you ok?” he gently spoke with a silky voice. Alejandra just closed her eyes and just immediately felt safe. “Thank you, dad” she whispered. “Don’t mention it. Me and your uncle.. Are always gonna be there for you, ok? Are you hungry?” Sergio just got emotional from what he was hearing. He never imagined this happening. but... it was, and he will never change with anything.   “Starving.”  “Good. Now go clean up. I’ll cook you some dinner.”  “Thank you, Dad” she said before hugging her father. Sergio and Andres watched her leave with a smile on their face.  Once she wasn’t in ear or eye sight, Sergio turned towards his brother and smiled “This is a whole new you brother”  “shut up and let’s order us food! You know I’m no cook!”  “Right” Sergio chuckled before grabbing the phone and chose a take out menu. 

[rhina988]

The Family Encounter  -Ashley comes to L.A.-

Read The Family Encounter pt.1

“No, no, turn the bed the other way, I want the morning sunlight to hit right at the middle,” I said to the delivery guys who dropped down a bed for Ashley. Her room was almost done, and she was supposed to arrive in a month. Little did I know, she never shares her plans with her parents. 

The phone rang and I answered without looking at my display, “Yes? Who is this”, I asked as I monitored over the delivery men.. 

“Well, finally old man,” a female voice said from the other side of the line. 

“Ashley? Is that you?” I asked in shock. 

“Yes father,” she said giggling, “It is I, your beloved daughter.” 

“Hey, how are you? How come you finally remembered to call your old man?”  

“Ummm I can’t really come to you unless I know the address, right?” she asked and I could tell she was rolling her eyes at me. Her mother’s voice went the same way when she was rolling her eyes. 

“Okay, enough with the attitude, young lady,” I said matter-of-factly, “I’ll e-mail you the address and the other details in a few days,” I said and continued to point the delivery guys where to turn the dresser to. 

“A few days? Do you want your 17-year-old daughter to spend days at the airport or roaming the streets of L.A.?” 

Coming around from explaining the guys where to put the furniture, I stopped and said, “Wait. Say that again.” 

“Dude, I’m on the plain, and will be landing at LAX in like an hour or so,” Ashley said and I felt a wave of anger mixed with fear washing all over me.

“What?! What do you mean…? And when, exactly, were you going to notify me about that? Does your mother even know…?” 

“Chill Jared, she knows. I convinced her not to tell you anything because I promised to call you on my own, which I kinda gave up on and decided to surprise you. Well, surprise!” 

“I guess your mother forgot to mention I’m not a big fan of surprises. I need things planned out and your room isn’t even… ugh…” I stopped talking for a second taking a deep breath. I was actually excited to see her, and I realized I need to make her feel welcome at her father’s house. It’s her home as well.  

“I get to have my own room?” Ashley asked with a bit of joy in her voice. 

“Of course, sweetie, but it’s not completely ready yet. Anyway, I’ll send someone to pick you up at the airport. See you soon.” 

“Okay, see ya.” 

I crossed my arms over my chest, starting to take deep breaths, before I told the delivery guys to leave. They were confused, to say the least, but I had no idea what to do next. Suddenly, nothing was going according to plan, and this little surprise was enough for me to know that life with Ashley is going to be anything but easy. She’s obviously picked up the worst of her mother and me, along with some of our best traits. Ashley was starting to look more and more like Brooke, but her character resembled mine in so many ways. I was starting to feel insecure of my own abilities to parent a teenager. She was practically an adult, and I was suddenly supposed to be an authoritative figure. After sorting my thoughts out, I sent a driver to pick Ashley up at the airport.  

“Okay, this traffic is ridiculous,” Shannon walked inside the living room at one moment clearly irritated with life in L.A. “If they don’t come up with something we could fly instead of driving the road, I’m gonna lose my mind,” he said plopping on the couch next to me. 

“You mean like a plain, helicopter, a paraglider?” I asked not looking away from the spot I found on the floor. 

“Oh right. Well, we need a helicopter, ASAP,” he said expecting a feedback from me, which he never got. “Are you feeling okay?” he asked putting his hand on my shoulder, realizing I wasn’t feeling my best. 

“Ashley is coming,” I said, still looking at the spot, barely even blinking. 

“I know, in a month, right?” he said noticing my palms were sweating as I was crossing my fingers so I could lean my chin against my hands.  

“Nope, she’s coming today,” I said with a low voice, feeling Shannon standing up from the couch. 

“Today? How? I mean why haven’t you …” 

“Told you?” I said getting up from the couch and heading to the kitchen, “because she called an hour ago to notify me.” 

Walking behind me Shannon was confused, but I could tell he was trying not to be too obvious, because he assumed I was pretty shocked myself. 

“Aren’t you supposed to pick her up?” 

“And risk getting out picture taken, having a series of gossip claiming I’m dating a teenager and possibly getting married for the 100th time? Not hanks! Plus, I need some time to clear my thoughts,” I said in a matter of seconds, feeling incredibly agitated. 

“So, how are you feeling? Are you ready …. Ummm for … you know?” 

“To be a father?” I said and he nodded giggling, “Yeah, I was supposed to be ready for that 17 years ago. And let me tell you something, nothing prepares you for the delivery, and nothing prepares you for this either. It’s like seeing her for the first time all over again. Except this time, I won’t have Brooke to make me chill,” I said pouring water to a glass. I was parched all of a sudden, and I managed to chug an entire glass of water in one take. 

“Man, you’re nervous!” Shannon said obviously shocked at what he just saw. 

“You think?” I asked ironically. 

“Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen Ashley in a loooong time. She must be a spitting image of her mother, huh?” asked Shannon. 

“Yes, she’s beautiful. But the character… man, she’s going to be a handful,” I said exhaling in fear. 

“No worries, bro, you have me. Brooke may not be here, but the two of us are definitely going to be able to deal with teenager’s tantrums”. 

The second he finished that sentence, Ashley made an entrance into the living room. 

“The daughter has arrived! Happy to see me?" she asked tilting her head, while chewing gum. Her outlandish outfit and such a vibrant hair color left Shannon in awe, while I needed a few moments to pick myself together too. 

Throwing her backpack on the sofa, she started walking around the house, not even allowing us to respond. “Nice driver. Couldn’t pick me up yourself rock star?” she asked as the driver walked inside bringing in her suitcase. I nodded to him instead of saying Thank you, as Ashley starting to look through the house.

“Wow, this place is huge. I can already see it’s going to be a lot of fun. And that pool outside, nice!” Ashley said, as Shannon and I just looked at each other, knowing this parenting thing isn’t gonna be easy. 

I took my cell phone to call Brooke and let her know Ashley has arrived, while Shannon was trying to introduce himself to his niece. 

“Hey kiddo, I’m Shannon, your cool uncle,” I heard him saying, which made me giggle instantly. You can’t say to a girl that you’re her cool uncle. He’s so going to pay for that. 

“Okay, if you say so,” Ashley said with a chuckle, and continued to walk through the house, as she took out a cigarette about to light it up. I was following her and Shannon, waiting for Brooke to pick up.  

“Yes?” she finally answered. 

“Hi, Brooke, it’s Jared.” 

“She’s there, huh?” she said with a sigh. 

“Yes, Ashley is here, and thanks for the heads up,” I said sarcastically. 

“I know I should’ve informed you about it, but you’ll see that when Ashley has something on her mind, she’ll get it, no matter what,” Brooke said and I knew she meant that in a bad way, alluding it was my genes that Ashley is carrying.  

“Btw, does she always dress like this?” I asked curiously? 

“Leather pants and a net shirt?” 

“Mhmmm.” 

“Yes, that’s one of her favorites,” said Brooke with a sigh. 

“Good to know,” I replied, not really knowing what else to say, and I wanted to tell her so much. “Also, does she actually smoke?” I asked in disgust looking at Ashley still holding a cigarette in her hand.

“She does a lot of things, and you’ll just have to deal with it, Jared” Brooke said before making a short pause, only to finish, “Okay, I have to go now, and good luck, Jared. You’re going to need it”. 

“So, where are you taking me,“ I heard Ashley asking Shannon, as I was about to enter the room they were in. 

Ashley already plopped on her bed, looking around the room, with the most annoying but kinda cute gum chewing and bubble popping. Until she took the gum out, glued it to the bed post and lighted up the cigarette. Shannon looked at me, looking at Ashley not knowing how to react. 

“You do not smoke …" I paused as she looked at me almost laughing at my face, “around the house,” I said trying to be less strict but still set some ground rules. “You can go outside, by the pool or wherever. But not inside.” 

“Fine, bossy boots,” Ashley said getting out of bed and walking to the dresser to put out a cigarette on it. 

“Where do you want to go?” I asked, leaning against the door frame and crossing my arms over my chest, trying not to freak out at what she just did.

“I don’t know, it’s my first time here. I wanna see everything,” she said and reminded me of myself when I was her age, “you know, pubs, night clubs, tattoo parlors. I really want to get a tattoo.” She said looking at all of my tattoos. The one thing I was hoping she’d never ask me.

“You’re not old enough to go to a club, missy,” I said as she passed by me heading to the studio. 

“ I am if I have a chaperone, “ Ashley answered not caring at all about what I just said. Shannon and I followed her, both terrified at how we’d be able to control this little rascal.

“Look, we can take you anywhere but the place where we could actually be seen by so many people who’s first thought would be that you and I or you and Shannon are ... you know,” I tried to explain as she sat behind the drums and started banging the drumsticks against the instrument. That was just the right way to Shannon’s heart.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! No banging,” Shannon almost snapped at Ashley as she started going all crazy around the drums. 

“Well, I’m not taking No for an answer. So, it’s either one club, or the drums get it,” Ashley answered and I knew she wasn’t kidding. 

“You don’t make the rules, Ashley, we do,” I said approaching her, and looking her deep into her eyes. This was it. I had only one chance to stand up to her and show her who’s the boss, or she’d make our lives a living hell and think she could wrap me around her finger. I wasn’t about to make the same mistake her mother did.

“Oh really,” she asked, raising her eyebrow.

“Yes. And what we say, goes! So, there will be no clubs, but only places where a girl your age can go,“ I said taking the drumsticks and giving them to Shannon.

She was quiet for a second before she said, “You got spine. I like that.”

Standing up she headed to kitchen where we all had an early lunch before Ashley went to take a nap in her room. I took the free time to think about everything, as I was very much surprised at how Ashley reacted to me being authoritative. I expected her to freak out and go all nuts, but she was incredibly tranquil. From my own experience I knew that couldn’t be good. It was probably just a calm before the storm.

Shannon and I tried to make Ashley feel welcome, but little did we know she wasn’t so easy to please. After all the sights we’ve showed her, and places we took her to, none of it made her really excited and happy, so we were out of ideas for a moment. Suddenly, one evening when we were going to have a movie night with a lot of popcorn and junk food, Ashley came to a surprising idea. 

“So, I know you’re having a short hiatus from your tour these few weeks, but would it be too crazy if I went along with you on your next show?” Ashley just blurred it out of nowhere, making me almost choke on popcorn. 

Shannon just looked at me curiously, and I knew he wanted to say yes, but my response was the most relevant.  

“I don’t think your mother would be okay with that,” I said trying to avoid rejecting her. I didn’t want to be the father who denied anything to his child, but I honestly didn’t think Brooke would approve, so I went with that option. 

“Mom is not the boss of me,” Ashley snapped. 

“She is until you’re 21,” I said. 

“18 in Europe,” she backtalked again. 

“You’re in the US now, young lady, and you’re not of age until you’re 21. End of story,” I said, trying to make her forget about the subject.

“Whatever, old man. So, if she says no, it’s a no? You don’t get to have any say in this?” Ashley asked, making me feel nervous. 

“I don’t think my opinion will ever count, Ash. I wasn’t around long enough to have any saying in the big decisions,” I was trying to lessen the blow, but my heart ached nevertheless. 

“But what if you insisted on having a say?” 

“What do you mean?”, boy, she was definitely my daughter. Persistent as ever. 

“Like, mom had to raise me for the first 17 years, and now for a few months you get to be the parent in charge,” she said snacking on popcorn, making Shannon smirk and giggle for a second. 

“I would love that, honey, don’t get me wrong, but your mom still needs to approve of all that.” 

“So, let’s call her,” she said grabbing her phone. 

“Whoa, whoa, time difference,” I said stopping her. 

“It’s 6 am there, she’s totally up by now,” Ashley said nonchalantly and already dialed the number. 

My palms started sweating, heart palpitating and I knew this was not going to be a pleasant conversation. 

“Hey, m…” suddenly Ashley paused and started rolling her eyes, “I’m fine, relax. Can I talk now? Thank you. Jared and I were just talking and we were wondering if you’d mind me going on tour with him and Shan?” 

The anticipation building, the anxiety rising through the roof, I was so afraid of Brooke’s answer all of a sudden. If she approved, I would be faced with a teenager on tour, having to worry about her aside from all the other stuff. If she didn’t approve, I would be faced with a devastated teenager likely to throw tantrums at me, and God knows what else. Or maybe just say To hell with it and make me say YES no matter what. Having a child was no picnic! 

“Aha, … aha… I know, but I really want to spend more time with them, experience all that on the road extravaganza. Don’t I deserve that?” Ashley was surprisingly calm and by the look of her face persuasive, because the corner of her lips curved up within seconds. 

Coming towards me, she handed me the phone saying, “She wants to talk to you.” 

Taking a deep breath, I took the phone and said, “I really hope you’re not going to yell at me. And good morning by the way.” 

“Is this your way of having fun? How could you even think I would allow her to travel with you all across the world?” Brooke was angry and apparently just got out of bed, judging by the sound of her voice. 

“Okay, first of all, going on tour wasn’t my idea,” I spoke in low voice heading towards the office, so Ashley wouldn’t hear the entire conversation, even though I figured she would eavesdrop anyway. “Second of all, I do not think it’d fun to torment you, and I’s much rather have you here with us so you can at least try to control her, because parenting a teenager is 10 times worse than what I’ve heard it was supposed to be like.” I was now done, and after a long exhale I was gonna say something else when Brooke interrupted me. 

“I understand that you want to spend more time with her, but going on tour is not something a teenager should do, Jared”, Brooke was persistent, but for some reason I really wanted to make Ashley happy and let her come to the tour. I mean, I was still her father, if anyone could be authoritative I could. 

“Haven’t you heard of Justin Bieber?” I said with a smirk,”Soon, only teenagers will be on tour. Performing, nonetheless. Look, you’ve had her for 17 years, now it’s my time to take care of her, and you’ll just have to trust me.”  

After a few seconds of silence and what I could clearly hear as a nervous breathing, Brooke said, “All right. But if you don’t make sure she’s always safe, Jared I swear to God…” 

“I will. Don’t worry. Thank you,” I said, and after a soft Okay, the conversation was over.  

Coming back to the living room I saw Ashley and Shannon giggling about God knows what. Seeing me approaching the sofa, Ashley jumped on it in anticipation. Her look said Tell us already, tell us already. And I couldn’t resist but making her wait for just a little while. 

“I’m afraid…” as I paused Ashley rolled her eyes and was about to start yelling when I continued, “you’re gonna have to put up with your old man for the next few months.” 

With the loudest scream I have ever heard in my life Ashley started running around the room, only to rush towards me and jump into my arms. “ Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she said kissing my cheek and hugging me so tightly I thought I was gonna lose my breath. Both excitement and fear washed over me, as I realized what I was going to put myself through. 

“Well, I guess you’re finally gonna see your old man rock from backstage,” Shannon was trying to be funny.  

“I cannot wait,” Ashley said ecstatically, jumping out of my arms.  

We were supposed to continue the tour in a week, and those seven days went by so fast, it felt like only one day. In the meantime, we managed to decorate Ashley’s room the way she wanted it, which was completely the opposite of what I had envisioned for her. But then again, she was anything but a regular teenager. Not that it’s any wonder, she was my daughter after all.

“Everybody ready?” I asked before Emma, Shannon, Ashley and I went inside the tour bus. The rest of the crew was already inside, and the little miss daughter didn’t feel like hanging up her phone, and was delaying our departure. “Could you please hang up, so we can have a talk on the bus?” I asked before she scolded me with her look. The same one her mother has. 

“So anyway…” she continued, entering the bus, which made me completely lose my mind.  

Following her, I snatched the phone out of her hand saying so I could hang up.  

“Hey! I was talking,” she said with an attitude, and I just raised my eyebrow, widening my eyes at her.  

“My bus, my rules! Apparently, you need more control than you needed at home. When I ask you something nicely, you listen to me and do as I say.” Just as she started rolling her eyes I said, “and enough with that attitude”. 

I followed her up in the bus when I saw her smirking which really quickly went straight to a huge smile. As I climbed up in the bus, I saw a boy not much older than Ashley, sitting on the bus. Grabbing Emma by the shoulder I asked, “Who is that?” as I could see Ashley tossing her hair and leaning towards the boy.  

“That’s my nephew. Scot? Remember, I asked you if he could come along and help us out, learn the ropes. He wants to be a musician, his parents thought that once he sees how exhausting tours are, he’ll just give up.”  

As both Ashley and Scot started giggling, I could feel the blood in my veins boiling to a melting point. The next minute Scot’s hand was touching Ashley’s hand, and the second she scooted over next to him and started leaning towards, she gave him that well-known irresistibly flirty smile she inherited from her mother. That’s when I knew this boy was gonna be trouble, and I had no intention of letting him and Ashley get closer than they should.

To Be Continued...

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Much love <3

@letonistaaaa @msroxyblog @iraniq @patiletoproblems @jaredsechelon09 

[kiddoryder]

Comission 1: The Birth of Lucius

For @anitoonzforever. Enjoy!

 Lucius belongs to me, but I would allow other people to use my oc if they want too.

In the Mansion, Sir Pentious was working on a new invention. His nephew Lucius was visiting him and was helping him built some parts of his latest invention. Then two egg Bois came carrying some books and papers for their bosses. Egg boi 104 - “We got you more of your books boss!” Sir Pentious took them but  and realized that they took the scrapbook and Lucius sketchbook.

Sir Pentious - “You scrambles nitwits! You grabbed the wrong books!”

 Lucius - “What's that, Uncle Pentious?” Sir Pentious - “Oh it's one of my photo albums, Lucius. I keep my most treasured pictures in this.

Lucius - “Can I see it?” Pentious - “Well of course.”

They open the scrapbook and start looking through the pages. There were pictures of the family in Hell spending time together or torturing other demons.

 Lucius - *amazed* “Wow. Never realized we had so many pictures.”

Sir Pentious - “You'd be amazed.” They keep going until they stop at different pages. Lucius’s eyes widen in surprise because he saw pictures of his parents and Uncle when they were humans during the Victorian era.

 Lucius - “Wow. It’s been a while since I saw you, Mother and Father as humans.”

 Sir Pentious - “I know. We look great but as demons, we look better.”

 Lucius - “My memory of the good old days is a little rusty.”

 Sir Pentious - “Well you were rather quite young when we all went to Hell.”

 Lucius turn a page and saw a picture of his parents smiling at Sir Pentious holding a baby Lucius. Pentious looks touched at this picture.   Sir Pentious - *fondly* “Oh I remember this.”

Lucius - “Really you do?”

 Sir Pentious - “Now how could I forget the birth of my own nephew? *hugs him* I remember it like it was just yesterday.”

Lucius - “Do you mind telling me the story?”

Sir Pentious - “Why I'd love to.” Flashback (They are humans in the flashback)

 Inside a Victorian house, there was Pentious’s older brother Jonathan who have pale skin, black slick back hair, wearing a black and white tuxedo, and fancy shoes. With him is his lovely pregnant wife Bethany who have long wavy brown hair, wearing a purple Victorian dress and purple shoes. They were visiting Jonathan's brother Pentious and Bethany was 9 months pregnant with her and Jonathan first child. Right now they were just having some tea and talking to each other.

 Bethany - “Oh Jonathan. I can't wait for this little to come out in a few days.”

 Jonathan - “I can't wait either, my dear Bethany. And I'm sure my brother is excited to see his little niece or nephew soon.”

 Bethany - “To this day I'm still excited that we are going to be parents!”

Jonathan - “So am I my dear. So am I.”

 Bethany - *looking around* “Speaking of your brother, where is he?”

 Jonathan - “Probably in his laboratory that I made for him in the house. Maybe I should check up on him. You know how much he loves to invent things.”

Bethany -  “Well okay.”

Jonathan got up to go to his brother’s laboratory. He went downstairs to the basement since that where the lab was. Inside, he saw  that Pentious who was working on his invention. Jonathan  - “Pentious?”

 Sir Pentious - *looks up to his brother* “Oh hello, Jonathon. What can I do for you?”

Jonathan - “We wanted to see how you were doing? Bethany and I have noticed that every time we talk about the baby, you go to the lab. Is everything alright?”

Sir Pentious - “Oh it's nothing…” Jonathon - *concerned* “Are you sure? You can tell me anything.” Sir Pentious -  *sighs* “Well, I'm just...worried.”

Jonathan - “Worried? About what?”

 Sir Pentious - “What if the baby doesn't like me? What if I turn out to be a bad uncle?”

 Jonathan - “Now that won't happen.” Pentious - “Jonathan,  you know that I don't like uncouth children. I don't have any of my own and I never been around children that much.”

Jonathan - “But I know you'll warm up to my child. He or she will love you. I know that Uncle feeling will come once you meet him or her.”

Sir Pentious - “Do you really think so?”

Jonathan - *smiles* “I promise.”

Suddenly they both heard a loud scream of pain and glass shattering.

Jonathan - *worried* Bethany?!

Sir Pentious -  “*worried* “What's going on?!“

They rush upstairs to check on her. Bethany looking like she had trouble standing up and groaning in pain. It even sound like she had trouble breathing.

 Jonathan - “Bethany my love! Are you okay?”

Bethany - *panting* H-Honey, I-I don't want to alarm you or P-Pentious but...the baby's coming!”

 Both - *shocked* “What?!”

Jonathon - “B-But the Doctor said in a few days!”

 Bethany - *annoyed and in pain* “Well the baby just said now! W-We need to get t-to the hospital! N-Now!!”

 Jonathan - *freaking and pacing around* “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!”

Sir Pentious - “Don't just stand there, help her!!”

Jonathan - “Alright, Alright!”

Jonathan helps Bethany to her feet. Bethany began to scream in pain again due to labor pains.

 Sir Pentious - “We gotta get to the cart now!”

Bethany - *panting* Oh oh please do!!

Jonathan - “Pentious, help my wife while I start the cart!”

Sir Pentious - “I'm on it!”

 Sir Pentious helped Bethany to the back seat of the cart. Then Jonathan and Pentious was at the front and Jonathan had the ropes that was connected to the horse.   Sir Pentious - “Step on it!”

Jonathan - “You got it!”

Jonathan then started to whip the horse which made the Horse move the cart. While they're driving, there's explosions going off everywhere. This was starting to scare Jonathan.

Jonathan - *scared* “What's going on?”

 Sir Pentious -  *annoyed and angered* “It's another one of those infernal turf wars! Out of all days, they wanted to do this day?!”

Jonathan - “Well they better watch it! Don’t know my wife is having a baby?!”

 Bethany - “Well we better get to the hospital now!”

*groan in pain*

Sir Pentious - “Hang on!”

 Sir Pentious took the rope, and made the horse go faster to avoid the explosion. While the horse was quick, turf wars was still happening and there were bombs being thrown. Thanks to the turf war, a bomb was thrown at the back of the cart wheel, and a tire broke. Pentious quickly pulled the rope to make the horse stop and it worked. Jonathon and Pentious quickly got off and opened the cart to see if Bethany is okay, luckily, she didn’t get injured.

Sir Pentious - “Is everybody alright?”

 Jonathan -  “I'm okay.” Bethany - *in pain* “Hello! I'm still in agony here!!”

Jonathan - “Sorry my love!”

Bethany - *scared* “Ohh...What should we do?!”

 Jonathon - *panicking* “I-I don’t know! The hospital is still a mile away!”

 Pentious turned around and saw that his house was a few feet away.

 Sir Pentious - “Hang on, my mansion is close by!”

 Bethany - *pain* “I-I don't care if W-we have to deliver it behind a tree, its j-Just need to come o-out now!!” *wince in pain*

Jonathan: “Let’s hurry!”

Taking caution, they carry Bethany to the mansion and made it safely inside.   Sir Pentious - “Just get my room ready, now!!”

Both Sir Pentious and Jonathan carry Bethany to Sir Pentious’s room. They both put Bethany on the bed, and Jonathon brought a bucket of water and some towels. As they were getting ready to deliver the baby, they still heard loud explosions. Pentious looked outside and saw it was some punks throwing some bombs one almost landed in his house.

Sir Pentious - *angered* Oh it's those turf wars idiots!

Jonathan - *scared* “What will we do!?! They can harm Bethany and the baby.”

Sir Pentious - “I'll take care of them. Jonathon, you help Bethany.” Jonathan - *concern* “But Pentious…”

Sir Pentious - “Just do it, brother! Bethany needs you!”

 Bethany - “BIG TIME!” *scream in pain*

 Jonathan - “Alright just be careful!” Sir Pentious nodded and took one last look at Jonathan and Bethany and left the room. As he was walking downstairs, Sir Pentious grabbed a cannon gun that he made and went outside to see the turf war and the punks that was trying to harm him and his family.   Sir Pentious - “I’m giving you all a warning! Leave this place at once! Or you will suffer by the hands of Sir Pentious!!”

 Gang member 1 - *laughing* “You and what army old man?”

 Gang member 2 - “Yeah this place can be perfect for our new turf.”

 Pentious starts firing his cannon at some the gang members. Some dodge them, but two of them got exploded.

Sir Pentious - *angry* “I said leave!!”

Gang member 3 - “Make us!” Pentious - “Alright you asked for it!”

 Sir Pentious fires even more and even hits some of them. He dodges some of the bombs that was being thrown and shoot some the punks. Half of the punks got injured, and other died. Sir Pentious -  “That'll teach you to terrorize my family!! I suggest you leave now!”

 After nearly being smoldered, the gang leaves. Sir Pentious sigh in relief that he managed to not only save his house, but protect his brother, sister in law, and the baby. Speaking of them, Sir Pentious quickly ran back inside.

 Sir Pentious - “Oh I just hope everything is okay.”

 When Pentious was quickly back inside, he heard a strange noise and then silence. This made Pentious worried.

 Pentious - *worried* “Hello? Bethany? Jonathan? Is everything okay?”

 He goes upstairs and finds Jonathan at the door. Jonathan didn’t have his black jacket on, he was sweating, and his hands look like it was recently washed. Sir Pentious quickly ran to his brother.

Sir Pentious - *worried* “Arthur what happened?! Is Bethany and the baby alright?!” Jonathan places a hand on his brothers’ shoulder. He first looked serious, which scared Pentious thinking that something bad happened. Jonathan - “*serious* “Pentious........*ecstatic* We have a son!! It's a boy!”

Pentious - *shocked* “....What! A boy!”

Jonathan - *happy* Yes! You got a baby nephew!”

Sir Pentious - *ecstatic* “Oh congratulations brother!”

Sir Pentious  hugs his brother tight. He was happy that not only Jonathan and Bethany were safe, but he got a nephew now. Speaking of Bethany:

Sir Pentious - “How's Bethany?”

Jonathan - “She's fine. Just tired.”

Pentious - “Who delivered the baby?” Jonathan - “Actually I did.”

 Sir Pentious - *surprised* “Wow! Didn't think you could do it!”

 Jonathan - “Me either. But  I couldn't bear to see my darling Bethany in pain or worried something would happen to the baby. So I decided to deliver it.” Pentious - *happy* “Oh I'm so proud of you.” Jonathan - “Would you like to see your nephew?” Pentious - *paused for a minute and smiled* “Yes...Yes I would.”

They go inside to see an exhausted, but happy Bethany holding a little bundle in her arms. The newborn baby was wrapped in a blue fuzzy blanket. Jonathon’s tuxedo jacket was in a basket and it was covered in blood. The floor look like it was recently clean, and the mop was in the bucket, and the water was red.

Bethany - *smile weakly* “Pentious....come look at your nephew.”

Pentious looked nervous at first. He still has that nervous feeling of being a bad Uncle. Jonathan - “Go on. You deserve it for protecting us.”

Sir Pentious goes to Bethany's side and sees the face of his newborn nephew sleeping in her arms. The baby had his and father’s black hair.

Sir Pentious - *speechless* “So...This is him?”

Bethany: *nods* “Yes...would you like to hold him?”

Pentious - *nervously* “I-I don't know.” Jonathan - “Go ahead. Like I said before, you deserve it.”

 Sir Pentious: *sighs deeply* “Well...Alright.”

Bethany gently handed the newborn baby to Sir Pentious and he was now holding him in his arms. He looks at the boy and for the first time in his life, if he ever did, tears of joy pooled in his eyes.

Sir Pentious - *happy and proud* I-I can't believe I...have a nephew...”

The newborn baby did a cute yawn and opened his eyes and saw his Uncle Pentious for the first time.

Sir Pentious - “H-Hello little one. I'm your Uncle Pentious.”

The baby smiled and extended one of its tiny hands out. Sir Pentious holds out a finger and the baby hold it.

Jonathan - *happily* “I think somebody is saying hello.”

Sir Pentious smiles and gently hugged his little nephew. Jonathon was certainly right: his Uncle feeling was already starting to kick in. Sir Pentious - “My boy...my dear boy...I promise I will love you like you were my own. And I will always help you and keep you safe.”

 Bethany - “Oh Pentious...That is so sweet.”

Jonathan - “We know you'll be a great Uncle.” Sir Pentious - “By the way, what's the boy’s name?”

Bethany - “We thought of one already.” Jonathan - “We're naming him Lucius.”

Pentious- “Lucius...That's an amazing name. It shows how much power and a gentleman he is.”

 Jonathan - “Oh that'd be wonderful!”

 Newborn Lucius let out a coo, then did a cute yawn again.

 Sir Pentious - *touched* “Aww, how sweet!”

Bethany - *clear her throat* “Oh do you mind handing me back the baby

Sir Pentious - “Oh right! Sorry.”

He hands her back the baby. Jonathan and Bethany kept looking at their newborn son lovingly.

Jonathan - “Oh we are going to raise a perfect gentleman.”

 Bethany -  “Just like his father and Uncle.”

Sir Pentious - *surprised* “Me?”

Jonathan - “Of course. You're one of the greatest men I ever know.”

 Sir Pentious - *proudly* “Well you're just as smart as I am.”

Bethany - “There’s something else we wanted to tell you Pentious.” Jonathan - “We would be honored if you would be the Godfather of our son.”

Sir Pentious - *surprised* “Me? Really?”

Jonathan - *happy and nodded* “Yes brother.” Sir Pentious: *tears of joy* “I'd be honored!!”

 Bethany - “Oh I'm am so happy! This is truly the best day of my life.”

Jonathan - “Mine too.” Sir Pentious - “Mine three.”

Newborn Lucius was smiling in his sleep. The other took noticed and Bethany said: Bethany - “Where should I set him down?”

Jonathan - “Do we have a crib or baby bed somewhere?”

 Pentious - I actually built a crib for him that I meant to send to you guys. It's in the room you and Jonathon usually stay whenever you come visit me. I'll take him.” Bethany - “Thank you Pentious.” She gently handed newborn Lucius to Pentious who held him in his arms.

Sir Pentious - “Come with me, my dear nephew.”

 Sir Pentious then took Lucius to the room and gently put him down in the crib and cover him with the blanket. Newborn Lucius was asleep in the crib as Sir Pentious was staring down at him.

Sir Pentious - *happy and proud* “Such a beautiful boy....I promise I will always be there for you.”

Sir Pentious gently stroke newborn Lucius's cheek. Tears of joy was filling his eyes again. Sir Pentious - “I promise not to let anything happen to you.”

He gives the new baby boy a kiss on the forehead. The baby smiled in his sleep. Sir Pentious - “I love you, Lucius.”

Sir Pentious looked at newborn baby Lucius one last time before leaving the room. That the promise he is definitely keeping loving and protecting his nephew no matter what.

Flashback ends

 Lucius - *amazed* “Wow! So that's how I was born!”

 Pentious - *fondly* Yes. It was the happiest day of mine and your parents’ lives.”

 Lucius - ��I just can't believe my Mother and Father went through all that.”

Pentious - “Well they did want to keep you safe.”

Lucius - “And it's all thanks to you, Uncle Pentious.

Pentious - “You know I would do anything to protect you.” Lucius smiles and see himself as a baby holding a screwdriver.

Lucius - *amazed* “Wow. I loved building things even as a baby.”

Sir Pentious - “Of course. I was the first person to discover it.” Flashback A baby Lucius was sucking on his pacifier and crawling in the hallway. He kept on crawling until he saw his Uncle Pentious in his room inventing a new machine. That's when baby Lucius crawl into the room and tugged on Sir Pentious’s pant legs. Sir Pentious felt the tug and  looks down and smiles seeing his precious baby nephew. Sir Pentious - *happy* “Why hello, my little nephew! Did you come to see your uncle?”

Lucius holds out his hands as if he's saying "pick me up"

Pentious - “You wanna see me work?” Pentious gently picked him up and Lucius looked puzzled yet, interested at the machine Pentious is working on.

 Sir Pentious - “What a curious little boy you are. Your father and I happened to be one of the most respected inventors in the world”

Lucius looks at his Uncle Pentious with his eyes widen in amazement.

Sir Pentious - “And someday when you're older, you'll be an inventor too.”

Lucius cooed, and was looking at the machine and tools.  He looked a bit curious as he tried to grab one of the tools.

 Sir Pentious - “What is it, my boy?”

 Baby Lucius pointed to the screwdriver. He was trying to reach for it.

Sir Pentious: *grabs it* “Oh this? You want this?”

Lucius starts making baby noises and grabbed it. Then  he began to screw a bolt on the machine Pentious is working on. This surprised and impressed Sir Pentious.

 Sir Pentious - *impressed* “Oh my! Very good, Lucius!”

 Baby Lucius even saw two pieces and put them together. It caused the machine to slightly start to work since the lights was going on.

 Sir Pentious - *happy* “That’s my boy! Someone is getting a treat for this!”

Baby Lucius clapped his tiny hands. Jonathan comes in to pick up his son.

Jonathan - “Oh there you are Lucius! You gave me quite a scare when you weren’t in your crib.”

 Baby Lucius claps his hands for his Daddy. Jonathan took Baby Lucius from his Uncle’s hands.

Pentious - “Oh brother Lucius has the gift!”

 Jonathan - *confused* “A gift?”

Sir Pentious - “Yes!! Look what your brilliant boy can do!” Sir Pentious gave baby Lucius a couple of more pieces of his unfinished machine. Baby Lucius first looked at them, then he put the pieces together and connected them to the machine. This made the machine light up and start to work. Jonathan was surprised and realize that his brother was right.

 Jonathan - *gasps* “Oh my god! He does have it!”

Sir Pentious - *proudly* “You see? He already has the genes of a brilliant inventor!”

 Jonathan - *happy* “Oh I am so proud!”

 Sir Pentious - “So am I!”

 Baby Lucius did a cute smile and clapped his tiny hands. Both Jonathan and Pentious hugged Baby Lucius.

 Jonathan - “That’s my boy!”

 Flashback ends Lucius - *amazed* “Wow. I didn't know I was gifted at a young age.”

Sir Pentious - “Of course you are, my boy! Everyone in this family has the gift of inventing. Yours just came at an early age.”

Lucius - “Wow that's amazing!”

 Sir Pentious - “You never disappointed me, and you never will.”

Lucius - “Even when I fail?”

 Sir Pentious: *hugs him* “You won't fail. I know you won't. And even if you did, I'll still be by your side.”

Lucius - *happy* “Oh thank you Uncle Pentious

 Sir Pentious - “Anytime my dear nephew.”

[wearesungreenmylove]

Chapter Eight: Senior Prank But It’s Third Years

Word Count: 2063

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Too soon, the Christmas holiday is over and everyone returns to Hogwarts. I’d never realized just how loud everyone was. Even just people studying, their quills scratching across parchment, is louder than I thought.  It’s only the second day back and teachers have already started piling on the homework. Deciding to ignore the mountain of homework on my bed, I opt for a walk outside.

Scorpius joins me on the grounds while snow falls around us. We walk next to each other, the ground littered with big soggy flakes.

He shivers. "It is so cold out here." He tugs his cloak around him. His muffler hat is wrapped tightly over his head, but his nose is pink.

"And that is exactly why we're out here." He looks at me, a mixture of confusion and betrayal on his face. "Nobody else is out here because it's so cold, which makes it the perfect place to plan a prank.”

"Who are we pranking? And why?"

"We are gonna give James a taste of his own medicine."

Scorpius giggles a little bit at that. "What?"

"You said it yourself. James is a Gryffindor bully. But what if we made him pay?"

"Rose, what are you talking about? I mean, I can get behind making him stop, but what are you planning?"

"So I say that we use my Uncle George's swamp spell and put it in his bag. Or even better, his bed, but that would be too hard because we can't get into the Gryff-unless!" I turn to face him, excited. "We had a spy on the inside."

"Or..." Scorpius adds, slowing down our conversation. But he looks as if a light bulb just went off in his head."We could put it in his goblet at dinner. Of course, we'd have to make sure the swamp was harmless first, but imagine having a swamp in a cup! That would be so cool!"

"Okay, so-new plan. You go talk to Professor Longbottom about a harmless swamp. He's the professor, so he should be the best source. And I'll talk to my uncle."

"Rose." He gives me a sly smile. "I have an idea. When the Gryffindor house wins house cup again we could put it in James’ cup.”

I nod at him. “Vengeance.”

…

“I’m sorry. You’re doing what?” Victoire exclaims, confusion and anger in her voice.

“Look, all we need is details. Who could put it in his cup?” I ask.

“Why are you two doing this?”

I faux sigh. “Victoire. He’s basically just a Gryffindor bully.”

She half shrugs, her light blonde hair brushing against her shoulders. “Yeah, he’s a bit annoying and all, but I don’t think he means to hurt anyone.”

“Except for the Slytherins,” Scorpius mumbles.

Victoire ignores him. “Look, you two should just stop. Trust me, you don’t want to get on his bad side,” She says definitively and walks out of the Room of Requirement, leaving Scorpius and me alone together.

“Do you think we should stop? She seemed pretty serious.”

“The one time that she ever got on James’ bad side was when she and Teddy started dating. James ignored her for three months.” I exhale. “But, I trust her. So if she says we shouldn’t we shouldn’t.”

…

Scorpius and I are awkward around James for a bit afterwards. Victoire keeps eyeing us in the club as if she’s assessing us. James gets suspicious though.

“What are you two up to that I don’t know about?”

“No-nothing.” I blurt out.

He side-eyes me. “You’re lying.” He glances over to Victoire who is looking at us, her eyes pleading as if she thinks that just that is enough to keep us from pranking my cousin. He looks back at us and looks us both up and down. “This is gonna sound repulsive, but are you two dating?”

“No!” says Scorpius quickly.

“Hm. Interesting.” He steps back. “Alright, I’ll leave you two alone for now. But I’ve got my eyes on you.” He raises his index and middle fingers to his eyes, then points them at us.

We sigh in relief as he walks away.

“That was a close call.”

Scorpius gives me a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

…

“Are you sure we can’t send letters to each other over the summer?” I ask.

“My parents would freak. I’m sorry Scorpius.”

I shrug. “It’s alright. I didn’t expect anything different. I mean, I’m pretty sure if my dad found a letter you sent me he’d throw a fit too.”

She takes a hold of my hand and lightly squeezes it. I look up at her. Her red hair, her freckles all across her face, and her smile. I smile back.

This summer I’m gonna find a way for Rose and me to talk without owls.

We both get off the train, separately so our families don’t think we’re hanging out. I watch Rose out the window as she runs towards her family, their arms wide open for her.

My dad’s on the far side of the station, away from the entrance. Probably trying to avoid drawing attention to himself.

I wait to get off the train until her family has left the station through the bricks. My first time seeing my dad in 10 months is nothing like how Rose’s family reunion went. He stands there while I lug my suitcase and Andromeda my screeching owl towards him.

“Hey, Dad.”

He nods solemnly at me. “Son.” His eyes look pained, but I don’t know why.

Probably Mother.

This is gonna be a long summer.

…

This is gonna be the best summer of my life. Sure I can’t talk to my best friend, but I get to play quidditch with everyone else. And sure we have to visit Gramma Weasley and Grandpa Weasley, but we also get to use their backyard as a field for quidditch and spend our days out in the sun.

I’m not actually a big fan of professional quidditch, Mum says I get that from her, but it’s Weasley tradition to play when we’re all together over the holiday.

Albus and I spend a lot of time together when Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny bring him and James and Lily over. So we spend part of our days outside underneath blue rhododendron bushes, looking up at the sky in between the soft petals.

“I think I like Scorpius,” I say.

“Oh?” He sounds disinterested.

“Yeah.” And I leave it at that.

…

Something is wrong.

My dad won’t come out of his office to eat or sleep in a bed or drink water. Sometimes I hear soft snoring, and I saw him asleep on his desk, his head resting against an open book.

But… he still had dark circles underneath his eyes.

“Hey, Dad?” I’d prompted when he started behaving like this.

He responded only with a grunt.

And he hasn’t responded with anything since.

We don’t have maids or house elves; my dad insists we do everything by ourselves. So I make myself and him sandwiches and pasta. I take plates up to his study and leave him be.

I think he likes the pasta. He eats more of that than the sandwiches. A couple bites. Mum used to make pasta once a week, tortellini, angel’s hair, penne, linguine. We’d go to the store and she’d let me pick out the type of pasta we’d have that week.

I should tell someone about Dad. Maybe they can help him. My immediate thought is Rose, but she told me to not contact her over the summer because her family would freak out. My dad told me to never talk to my Grandpa Lucius, and Grandmother Narcissa died a couple years ago. And we don’t have any other family, so I guess my only choice is Rose.

In my room, I grab a piece of parchment and a quill and pen to her.

Dear Rose,

I know you told me not to contact you over the summer, but I think this is really important.

…

My dad hasn’t been talking to me or eating anything besides a couple bites of pasta and sandwiches every so often and he hasn’t left his study in days.  Maybe your parents can help? I wasn’t sure who else I could contact.

Your friend,

Scorpius

I blink, trying to think about the letter Scorpius sent me.

His great grey owl Andromeda nudges my hand and I give her a treat. “You stay here. I’ll be back with a letter for Scorpius.”She preens her feathers, and I take that as a yes.

I run down the stairs, my feet pounding against the steps.

“Mum!” I call, knowing she’ll be more likely to help.

“What is it, dear?” She asks from her favourite blue armchair. Her glasses are slipping down her nose and she has a book in her hand, per usual.

I walk towards her carefully, making sure my dad isn’t around.

“Scorpius’ dad needs our help.”

…

“Malfoy needs OUR  help?” My father exclaims. “And what has that idiot ever done for us?”

“Ronald, try and be a little more sensitive. His wife died last year and he’s obviously depressed.”

He grunts then looks up at my mum, and he seems to understand. He sighs in defeat. “Alright. But what can we do? Drag him out of his office? I doubt that would work.” Mum glares at him. “I’ll go call St. Mungo’s.”

…

“So what are you gonna do with the kid? He can’t stay in a big empty house all by himself. And it looks like the only living relative is Lucius Malfoy, who worked for You-Know-Who.” The guy from St. Mungo’s is standing there in a white doctor’s jacket, all buttoned up nice and pretty, staring down at me and my parents.

Someone else is inside talking to Scorpius and I saw multiple people go in to talk to his dad.

I feel bad for both of them.

Thinking about Scorpius, I almost miss it, but Mum glances at Dad, then says “We’ll take him.”

…

“You can’t avoid it forever.” Scorpius won’t look at me. He looks down at the dirt, rubbing the back of his neck. “Scorpius.”

He finally looks up, his eyes bright with tears. “I don’t want to see her,” He says. “If I see her, it makes it real.”

“You kids coming?” Dad is already inside the cemetery, and he waits behind while Mum and Hugo move forward towards the Black lot.

“Yeah,” I call forward, and I look to Scorpius.

He looks at me and sighs.

We move forward together.

…

Dad is already there by the time we reach her grave.

It’s not the first time we’ve visited, and it won’t be the last, but that doesn’t make this part any easier.

I look at Dad.

He looks at me.

The Weasleys lag behind, too polite to impose themselves in our situation, but I kind of wish they would.

Looking over me, Dad says, “Thank you.” It’s stiff and brittle and I’m pretty sure it’s the first time the words have passed his lips.

Mr. Weasley looks shocked. Then he looks uncomfortable. “Uh, yeah, no problem mate,” He says.

A bit of trademark distaste shows in Dad’s eyes, and I allow myself to relax. It fades without him saying anything- another first- and he looks back to me and steps forward to crush me in a hug.

I freeze, and he pulls away before I can hug back. He has tears in his eyes, and if he starts crying, I know I’m done for.

Instead, he says “thank you” again, and the Weasleys leave us alone to grieve.

I almost wish they didn’t have to give me back.

...

The summer is interesting, to say the least. After Scorpius’s extended stay at my house, life falls back into its normal routines. Dad tells me that he’s fine with me being friends with Scorpius now that he knows he isn’t “evil like his father” and I have to struggle not to roll my eyes.

You’d think after everything that happened Dad would have changed his mind about Mr. Malfoy, but I guess they have too much history.

The rumours I overhear on Platform 9 ¾ make me want to throw up.

Why can’t people just be friends?

[riddle-me-this-mr-nygma-blog]

The Stark Internship (Part 1)

Turning the page and feeling through the notes, I thought back on the plans I had made. I quickly balled up the sheet in my fist and threw it into the bin behind me. I ruffled through more pages on the book, only to hear a knock on the door, before it slowly crept open. 

“Y/N?” I heard Tony call out as he stepped into the room.

“Yes Tony, what do you want?” I mumbled, frustrated, pushing the papers away and fiddling with my pen.

“Plans not working out huh?” He chuckled lightly and I frowned. “Listen, I’m making this trip… need to talk to someone, and I want you to come with me” He explained, evasively.

“What’s the catch?” I asked, finally turning.

“oh, you’re not wearing your glasses?” I shook my head and he let out a sigh. “He’s about your age, I think… and I need him…”

“So? You want me to entice him? Date him? Or tutor him?” I laughed and heard a small chuckle escape Tony’s lips.

“None, but you’re better with people, and his age, so I think he’ll be more comfortable talking to me if you’re there” I rolled my eyes and turned away, closing my notebook.

“Where is it? Do I need to pack?” I groaned, making Tony’s laugh grow louder.

“Queens” He answered simply. I nodded, standing up and brushing off my crumpled shirt.

“This is about Steve, isn’t it?” Tony remained silent and I ran a hand through my hair. “Okay, when do we leave?”

I tried, picking up my sunglasses. Tony linked arms with me and dragged me from the office.

“Friday, lock Y/N’s office until her return” Tony ordered and I heard the lock on my door activate. We continued down the halls and I put on the sunglasses.

“Mr Stark, I have miss Y/N’s bag” I heard one of Tony’s many employee’s call, I reached out and took the bag from his hand, a small nod in his direction before making my way out of the doors.

I could hear Tony and Happy discussing something behind me, and I walked up the stairs for the jet alone. Throwing my bag onto one of the leather seats and falling into the chair. Soon after Tony and Happy walked on, and I felt my glasses case fall into my lap. “I figured shades are less conspicuous than your blank stare” Tony laughed and I pulled on the glasses, rolling my eyes behind the thick frames.

“You know, I don’t need to see your face for it to annoy me” I mumbled, making Happy laugh, he nudged me slightly and I smiled, unzipping my bag to pull out a notebook. I opened it on the desk, feeling over the last page of equations and algorithms I had been working on.

“What are you so focused on recently Y/N?” Tony asked inquisitively, and I could feel him trying to get a look at my notes. I quickly slammed the book shut and raised an eyebrow at the man.

“Why should it matter Stark, you’ve got your priorities and I’ve got mine” I answered simply and leant back in the chair as the jet took off. “Just leave me to my work, we both know it’s relevant”

“Like the top secret notes?” He hinted and I shook my head. Picking up the notebook and holding it close.

“You don’t even know what those notes were for, and even so… you should know better than to snoop at my work Anthony. But, anyway, I want to have it perfected before I show anyone” I muttered, Tony hummed. He knew how it felt when you were on the verge of something. “Anyway, you want me to talk to the boy?” I leant back, “I need to know two things then… who is he, why’s he important to you?”

“His name is Peter, Parker. He’s a freshman in Midtown High School- science and technology” Tony crooned and I rolled my eyes.

“In English Tony” I grumbled and he chuckled.

“He’s 15, nearing 16. And he’s a science kid” Tony elaborated and I nodded to myself. “He’s a good kid, lives with his aunt, recently deceased uncle. Parents died when he was very young” I nodded, looking down and frowning.

“Very much like our own wiz kid” Happy noted and I looked up to him.

“No, he still has a normal life. Tony, turn the jet round. Leave him out of this, whatever it is you have with Steve, I’ll help. Just don’t bring a kid into it because I disagree with you” I sighed in defeat and Tony mumbled out his disagreement.  

“I knew you’d have said that. But Peter isn’t involved for his mind…” I raised an eyebrow but Tony said nothing more. “We’re arriving” he let out a sigh.

“One more thing I want to know” I folded my arms. “And I won’t leave this plane until you tell me…” Tony hummed once more.  

“Barnes” He admitted, I let out a laugh and shook my head.

“This is over Bucky?” I laughed. “A war? Over Bucky Barnes? Jesus Christ Tony, are you that bored?” He didn’t utter a word. “The rumours are true aren’t they, government officials have you under their thumb, you obey or you are criminals too… and you’re one of the few they can capture and arrest with ease”

“It’s not about them arresting me” He snapped, Happy and I both blinked in shock. “I’m trying to protect everyone. What do you think they’ll do to Pepper and you? People that help me with all these missions, what do you think they’ll do Clint and his kids? Natasha? Vision?”

“Well, they can’t exactly lock him up” I chuckled, making Happy laugh.

“Not funny Y/N” I smirked and heard the engines shut off. “Come on, before I regret brining you” He stood up and quickly walked out the door, I followed Tony down the stairs and felt Happy grip my forearm, walking down beside me.

“He does find you funny, he’s just stressed” I nodded and let out a sigh, looking to Tony who was climbing into his car.

“I know, I just wish he would fight for what’s right” I sighed, making Happy nod.

“He does what he thinks is right, but he isn’t always right himself” I nodded in agreement then climbed in beside the billionaire already in the car. “We’re about 2 minutes away from the boy’s apartment Mr Stark, do you want me to drop you out front?” Happy called through the window, electing a small nod from Tony.

“What should I expect?” I asked, feeling nervous. Tony took me on various ventures with him, but never to bring a young boy into a war. Tony took my hand in his and smiled weakly.

“I’m hoping, his aunt will love you, and see a lot of her nephew in the girl before her. A nerdy girl who only has very little family around. I think he will really click with you, hell the boy isn’t going to find you disgusting” He elbowed me and I laughed. “But, on top of that, you’re just like him… minus one thing” he smiled.

“Has he got a nice shiner like you then” I gently poked Tony’s black eyes and he glared at me, before opening the door.

“Maybe” he laughed, I climbed out. Tony grabbed my bag and held it out, I raised an eyebrow and he chuckled. “You don’t know how long we’ll be here, and I know what that mind of yours is like” he tapped my temples and I smiled up to him. Tony might be a dick, but he’s also incredible as a person. 

“Let’s go, before I realise I’m helping you bring a kid into a war” He nodded, linking arms with me and pulling me into the apartment. He held up his phone and spoke into it, whilst I listened out to all the noises. Music playing, people talking and laughing. I smiled to myself, it was so different to my house, so silent. Not even a clock would tick at home. Tony pulled on my arm and I snapped back to the moment.

“You with me?” He asked with a chuckle. I glared and followed him into the lift and up through the floors. “It’s this one” he mumbled, walking into the hallway, looking at each door number. I bit into my lip and pushed the thick black glasses up my nose. Tony suddenly stopped, turning to me and smiling. “Here, are you ready? I don’t need you freaking out or blowing the cover” he warned, “stark internship” he explained.

“That’s why you’ve brought me, an actual intern. Make it realistic. She’ll have a face to place with his stories” He nodded proudly, making me roll my eyes again.

“But also, to relate to the kid. I don’t gel that well with kids” he muttered quickly.

“Oh really, I wouldn’t guess” I snapped, making him laugh. I linked arms with Tony and he turned and quickly rapped his knuckles against the door, he let go of my hand and crossed his behind his back. I held tightly onto my backpack, listening as the door creeped open a lady hesitantly opening the door.  

“May I help?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“I’m sorry madam, I believe we have the wrong door. Do you happen to know where I would find the Parker’s?” Tony asked, I heard her heartrate increase, she was happy.  

“That’s me, I’m May, May Parker” She held out a hand and I heard Tony’s hand clapping into hers, shaking it gently. “What possible reason could you have to come here Mr Stark?” She opened the door and welcomed us in. Tony walked to the sofa quickly and I just stood behind him, slapping his head lightly as May shut the door. She headed towards us, sitting beside Tony, “please, take a seat young lady” she smiled to me, and I nodded my head to her.

“Thank you Ms Parker” I muttered, taking a seat.

Tony quietened for a moment, taking a bite of the loaf May had presented, before continuing. “This is one of my interns, a real life Einstein” he chuckled and I sat down, raising an eyebrow.

“Einstein was real…” I mumbled, making both of them laugh. “I’m Y/FN, Y/N for most though” I shook her hand and she smiled warmly.

“Y/N here was the first intern I took on, and I thought it would be nice for her and Peter to meet, since they’ll be working together, and are both incredible minds of their generation” Tony beamed to me and I rolled my eyes laughing.

“After a while you learn what is a joke and what’s honest” I smirked to the woman who just let out a quiet laugh. My head snapped in the direction of the door and I heard footsteps approaching, faint music humming, something with a beautiful melody, one I couldn’t place. The person stopped outside the door, a small sigh escaping his lips. I heard the door open, my head turning back to the two adults having a conversation in front of me, however, my focus was on the slowly approaching footsteps.

“Hey, May” I heard the cheerful voice call, his footsteps picking up, I felt a smile creep onto my face at the happy tone.

“Mmm. Hey. How was school today?” She called, I heard Peter’s heart rate increase, he was excited. His footsteps made their way towards the main sitting room

“Okay. This crazy car parked outside...” He stopped, talking and walking at the same time, I listened intently as both adults turned to face the boy. My head tilted towards the ground.

“Oh, Mr. Parker” Tony greeted, I could hear the boy’s heartbeat picking up.

“Um...” I hear him pulled the earphones from his ears, before he continued.  “What- What are you doing...? Hey! Uh, I'm I'm-I'm Peter” He stumbled, making me smile gently. I heard his aunt’s muffled chuckle. I could see the smirk on Tony’s face even without looking at him.

“Tony” he returned causally. “That’s my assistant Y/N” he motioned to me, I heard Peter turn slightly, his clothes rustling, before he let out a gulp and stumbled over his words again.

“What are... What are you - What are you - What are you doing here?” He finally got out, making me chuckle lightly.

“It's about time we met. You've been getting my e-mails, right?” Tony lied with ease, and I could tell he was winking to the boy. Peter took another shaky breath, turning to his aunt.

“Yeah. Yeah” he agreed, doubtfully. Gosh this boy couldn’t keep a secret.

“Right?” Tony pressed, trying to make it more realistic.

“Regarding the…” Peter questioned, his heart rate increasing, he was beginning to sweat.

“You didn't tell me about the grant.” His aunt pressed and I could hear the near panic attack the boy was having. I took in a breath.

“Yeah, the September Foundation, I e-mailed you about it. It’s for students like us, those Tony sees promise in. I was selected last year and got an internship… Tony selected you Mr Parker, congratulations” I smiled widely, hearing his heartbeat return to normal, and Tony gripping my hand quickly before letting go. A silent thank you.

“Can I have 5 minutes with him?” Tony directed the last part to May. “To go over what he’ll be doing, and the confidentiality agreements?”

“Sure” she muttered, stunned at Peter’s opportunity. I felt Tony grab my arm, and I followed Peter’s footsteps to his room. Once we were inside Peter's bedroom Tony bolted the door and spits out the walnut loaf.. I cringed for Peter, truly happy I couldn’t see right now. “As walnut date loaves go, that wasn't bad” Tony chuckled, I felt a hand gently touch my shoulder. 

“Miss, would you like a seat?” I heard the boy ask gently, and I smiled to him, nodding gently. Peter lead me to the bed and I slowly sat down, bouncing slightly as I put my weight on the soft, fluffy bed. 

“Quick question of the rhetorical variety” I heard Tony pull the phone from his pocket and press a button. Silence fell, and Peter’s heart rate increased. “That’s you, right?” I raised an eyebrow, looking up to Tony. 

“Um, no. What do you. What do you mean?” He stumbled, lying. I listened to the quiet thudding of his heart, racing like a hummingbird.

“Yeah. Look at you go. Wow! Nice catch. 3,000 pounds, 40 miles an hour. That's not easy. You got mad skills” Tony complimented, 3000 pounds? At 40 miles an hour? Was he testing the affect speed has on collision force?  “Y/N?” Tony asked, I looked to him then shook my head. 

“I’m not getting involved Tony, you asked me here as someone he could relate to and someone to talk to him. I’m not a lie detector. Not today” I looked up to the boy, who was breathing unevenly. “You don’t need to lie to us though Mr. Parker, trust me… I know many of Mr. Stark’s secrets, and he may be an asshole. But he’s not stupid” I chuckled and heard the boy laugh.

“Oh, what have we here?” I heard a hatch open and suddenly Peter jumped, his heartrate doubling and I heard a door shut quickly. 

“Uh... That's a...” Peter searched for an explanation and I could almost feel Tony’s amusement. 

“So. You're the... Spider... ling. Crime-fighting Spider... You're Spider-Boy?” he smirked and I rolled my eyes. Of course, he found a new hero, a young one he could easily mold to his needs. 

“S... Spider-Man” he admitted, defeated. 

“Not in that onesie, you're not” I kicked tony again and heard Peter sniffle with laughter. 

“It's not a onesie. I don't believe this. I was actually having a real good day today, you know, Mr. Stark. Didn't miss my train, this perfectly good DVD player was just sitting there and... Algebra test. Nailed it!” He cheered before slapping his hands against the wooden desk nearby, making me jump. “sorry” he whispered and I nodded. 

“Who else knows? Anybody?” Tony asked, pressuring the kid. “You know what I think is really cool? This webbing. That tensile strength is off the charts. Who manufactured that?” I raised an eyebrow, webbing? “don’t tell me its natural” Tony cringed and I groaned.

“Disgusting” I said, slapping Tony’s arm, Peter laughed lightly then spoke up.

“I did, and it’s artificial, the bands project it” Peter explained and sat down beside me.

“Climbing the walls, how you doing that? Cohesive gloves?” He asked, I sighed then looked to the floor,

“I apologize for the world’s most annoying and bratty man-child” I mumbled, making the boy beside me laugh.

“Lordy! Can you even see in these?” I felt the bed ping back to normal as Peter strung up.  “You're in dire need of an upgrade. Systemic, top to bottom. 100-point restoration. That's why I'm here” I rolled my eyes at what Tony was suggesting, the boy didn’t need a costume change. He needed a mentor, support. Not to be brought in halfway through a war and be expected to fight as a warrior. “Why you doing this? I gotta know. What's your MO? What gets you outta that twin bed in the morning?” Tony asked, finally beginning to think of Peter as a person.

“Because... Because l've been me my whole life, and l've had these powers for 6 months” Peter let out a sigh as tony hummed. “I read books, I build computers... And-And yeah. I would love to play football. But I couldn't then so I shouldn't now” Peter argued, I let out a chuckle and lifted my hand, to place it on his shoulder.

“Sure, because you're different” Tony agreed. I smiled and nodded to my mentor. “So you wanna look out for the little guy. You wanna do your part? Make the world a better place, all that, right?” Tony summed up, and I glared in his direction.

“Yeah. Yeah just looking out... for the little guy. That's-That's what it is” Peter agreed, I could hear the smile on his face as he gained the Stark approval. I heard Tony step closer and felt Peter shuffle slightly.

“Y/N, I’m gonna sit here, so move over kiddo” Peter moved along quickly and I felt Tony fall onto the bed, between us.  “You got a passport?” he asked, making me frown

“Uh, no. I don't even have a driver's license” Peter mumbled, I chuckled lightly and smiled to the boy.

“You ever been to Germany?” Tony asked again, I slapped his shoulder and heard Peter mumble to himself.

“No.” He answered, unsurely.

“See Tony, leave the boy alone. He doesn’t need to be a part of this, hell he isn’t even allowed to legally go. You’d get him in more trouble than needed”

“I can't go to Germany” Peter mumbled, “I got... homework.” He argued, making me chuckle.

“I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that.” Tony argued back, I looked ahead, a frown set on my face.

“I’m-I'm being serious! I can't just drop out of school!” Peter declared, under his breath, the kid had sense then.

“Y/N can tutor you, she’ll help with your school work. However, Germany, might be a little dangerous. Better tell Aunt Hottie I'm taking you on a field trip” I heard the sound of clicking and felt a gust of air pass me, hearing the thud against a door.

“Don't tell Aunt May” Peter threatened, a smile formed on my face.

“You have guts kid” I muttered, standing up, he chuckled and I heard Tony cough.

“She’s blind kid, can’t give her flirty eyes” He interfered and I flipped him off. “Alright, Spider-Man. Get me out of this.” He sighed, I heard Peter’s heart pick up as he fumbled over his words once more.

“Sorry, I'll get the...err” he mumbled and I put my hand down on the desk, feeling a sharp piece of plastic. I quickly walked towards Tony and cut the webbing from his hand, turning to Peter and holding out the plastic, in the palm of my hand. “Thanks” he smiled.

“I told you, she’s incredible” Tony beamed again and I rolled my eyes.

“She’s pissed… now, go out, get in the car and go back to the plane Tony. I’ll be talking to you later” I spat, before turning to the young boy. “Don’t feel pressured at all kid” I grabbed a card from my bag and flicked it onto his desk. “call me before him. I arrange everything or else Tony would forget where he put Friday” I smirked, hearing Peter chuckle lightly.

“Thanks… miss” He trailed off and I smiled.

“It’s just Y/N, and Peter, if you want to flirt… you have to be more vocal with me” I smirked, hearing his heart speed up and I chuckled following Tony out. 

[darlingpetao3]

For Asgard (Chapter 19/?)

The last several minutes pass in a dizzying haze. It kind of feels like you aren't even present in your own body. Could this be sleepwalking? With your luck, unlikely. If only it was that easy to wake up from your problems.

While you were in your hazy reverie, it would appear that you had been taken to a cabin room to wallow in your horrid memories and thoughts. What will these people do to me now that I'm on my own? Lock me up forever? Torture me? Kill me?

You lean back against the cold metal wall of the room and slide down until you reach the floor. Your hands wrap around your legs – vulnerable. Forehead touches knees – alone. Everything has changed so quickly...

The door to the cabin whooshes open. It's a S.H.I.E.L.D guard.

“Come with me please, Miss.”

Oh great. The end is nigh.

Having nothing left to fight for, you obey and follow the man to a control room with a large glass table above a group of what you assumed were analysts and technicians. At this table sits two familiar faces; previously your rivals: Stark and Rogers. You weren't sure what you would consider them now. Also present at this gathering, is Eyepatch, in the middle of giving a speech.

“-The Avengers Initiative. The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people. See if they could become something more. See if they could work together when we needed them to. Fight the battles that we never could. Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea. In heroes.”

Upon the untimely combination of both the utterance of Coulson's name and your eyes catching on a handful of bloody trading cards on the table, you emit a distressed noise. The men turn around to see you standing there with a slumped posture and arms crossed. You remain silent, still not knowing why you're here.

“Uh, hi. Sorry to... I was brought here...?”

“Gentlemen, the newest member to join our ranks.”

“What do you think we are, soldiers?” Stark says sharply. “Damn it, Fury, we are not soldiers.”

“I don't know what's happening,” you say cautiously. “But just so we're clear, I'm not joining anything. It's nothing personal, I just want to go-”

“That's it. He made it personal,” interrupts Stark.

“What?” you ask.

“Loki. He made it personal,” he muses aloud. “Hit us right where we live. Why?”

Rogers speaks up. “To tear us apart.”

“Yeah, divide and conquer's great, but he knows he has to take us out to win, right? That's what he wants. He wants to beat us, he wants to be seen doing it, he wants an audience. Loki is a full-tilt diva. He wants flowers, he wants parades, monuments built to the sky with his name on it.”

“That does sound like him,” you mutter.

“Which brings us to you, Missy. Loki's better half. You know the guy like no one else.”

“What are you getting at?”

“You can fight with us,” says Rogers. “You know his weak points, and I'm sure you yourself are one of them.”

“This is a bit much, I don't-”

“Don't you want redemption for what happened? To play for the right side? Loki will continue to destroy everything in his path unless you help us stop him,” Rogers pleads. “Do you have any training? Martial arts? Weapon handling?”

“Yes. Believe it or not, Uncle Sam, I can fight.”

Tony laughs. “Uncle Sam. I like her already.”

“Watch it, Money Bags. I can also wield a knife.”

“How are you at persuasion?” asks Rogers.

“Persuasion?”

“This might work if you're able to convince Loki to stand down.”

“Nobody can convince Loki of anything,” you tell them. “He does what he wants.”

“But you two are more than partners, right?”

“I'm not too sure anymore.” There's no way you two could be “partners” now. He went down a path you cannot follow. A short silence hangs in the air. Rogers breaks it with the number one question.

“Are you willing to help us?” You relinquish your arms from their folded position – no longer in a defensive stance.

“Yes. I'll help you.”

You never thought in a million years you would be catching a lift from Iron Man above New York City, and yet here you were.

“You remember the plan?” he asks.

“Yes, and thank goodness it's a plan I'm actually in on for once.”

“Are you sure you can fight? Loki will probably have my security under his spell. They'll come after you.”

“You know, Stark, just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I can't handle myself.”

“You sound just like Pepper.” He sets you down near the Stark Tower main doors, your point of entry. Stark will fly up to his penthouse and distract Loki, while you make your way up the tower from the inside. You are the element of surprise.

“Good luck, Missy.”

“You too.”

“Oh and don't worry about Cap's theory on Loki's power. We'll be there for you if things do take a turn.”

You nod, trying not to think about it too much. “Right. Hey, Stark?”

“Yeah?”

“Just don't underestimate him.” He gives a single nod and salutes you. As he bolts upwards, you burst into the building and find, as Stark had predicted, a group of big muscly men in suits with glazed over eyes are ready to stop your break in. But what the poor unsuspecting security team doesn't know was all that you had been through.

They never stood a chance.

None of them was ready for your otherworldly martial arts training. You introduce these grown men to the floor, but not before rendering them unconscious with either a kick, punch, or a strangle. They'll wake up eventually, but not anytime soon. Stark should hold interviews for a new security team when this is all over and done with.

You book it to the elevators and find Stark's personal lift to his penthouse apartment. He had already given you the passcode to operate it because it will absolutely not function without it. You type in 73777 or if you spell it out on the keypad with letters, P-E-P-P-E-R. Even Stark should know better than to have his girlfriend's name as a password. You guess he was another one of those hopeless romantic types beneath his rough exterior.

Maybe it's the nerves, but the elevator feels as if it's taking two freaking years to reach the top floor. On the way up though, you see your reflection in the mirrored interior wearing the slimming S.H.I.E.L.D agent uniform they gave you back on the flying base. Damn, this looks amazing on me.

The lift comes to a halt. Finally, the penthouse. It's showtime.

The elevator door opens to a view of a complicated machine outside on the terrace and it looks like the Old Man Scientist is out there tinkering with it, still under Loki's control. You hear two voices coming from around the corner. All you need to do is take a few steps and stand there. Simple, right? Maybe everything you once saw in Loki will come flooding back to him when he sees you, shake him out of his madness.

You didn't hear exactly what Stark said, but it must have pertained to you because Loki turns around and freezes, surprised at the sight of you.

“My darling, you've come-” His voice hopeful and glad to see you once more, but he breaks off and looks closer at you. “No...”

“Loki-”

“She's with us now, Reindeer Games.”

Dammit, Stark. You shoot him a glance as if to command him to stay out of this.

“After all we have been through? Are you choosing them? Please tell me you are going to appeal to my humanity?”

“Uh, actually she's planning on threatening you.”

“Shut up, Stark,” you say through your teeth.

“Nothing you can say can change my mind (Y/N). No matter how much you mean to me.”

“Anyone want a drink?” Loki and you ignore him as he pours some whiskey in a glass.

“The Chitauri are coming. Nothing will change that. It is for your own good that you leave before they devastate the city.”

How is it that Loki is still trying to protect you even though you are no longer together, no longer on his side. This surprises you, quite frankly.

“Don't you worry about that, Rock of Ages.” Spotlight-loving Stark always has to be the centre of attention, no matter what room he's in, doesn't he? “Your beautiful Kryptonite here is tough stuff. After all, you do have to be tough to be an Avenger. Being beautiful does help, too...”

Loki looks at him, you can tell he's wondering what that one word was.

“What, Avengers? That's what we call ourselves. Sort of like a team. Earth's mightiest heroes type of thing.”

“Yes, I have met them,” Loki says, annoyed. Stark keeps rambling on about every individual that makes up the Avengers while fidgeting with something around his wrist, but you can't tell what, exactly. He must be buying time. Stark advances on Loki, which you think is far from a good idea.

“There is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it's too much for us, but it's all on you. Because if we can't protect the Earth, you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it.” He takes a bold sip of his whiskey.

“How will your friends have time for me, when they are so busy fighting you?” Loki taps the spear to Stark's chest.

Oh no!

But nothing happens. Loki tries again but to no avail. “This usually works.”

It's the arc reactor in his chest. It's interfering with the stone! That's lucky. Stark shrugs.

“Well, performance issues are not uncommon... one out of five.” Loki grabs him by the throat and throws him across the room. He stalks Stark like a wild animal going in for the kill.

“You will all fall before me,” he growls.

“Loki, stop it!” You start to go over to stop him but he throws Stark out the window, shattering it with great force.

“NO!”

In a flash of red and gold, Stark's Iron Man suit whizzes past you and follows him out the window in a nose dive to the street below. You only pray it gets to him in time.

Out of the corner of your eye, Loki starts stalking you now. But you stand your ground because there's no way in hell you're backing down from him in a time like this.

“Darling, you know I love you,” his voice is not at all soothing as how you would expect it to be saying these words. “But for what I am about to do, I am truly sorry for this. It is the only way now.” You hold your breath. Loki raises the glowing sceptre to your chest and contact is made.

“Now,” he says authoritatively. “Join me again, Mistress.”

You look at him with wide eyes.

“No.”

Loki's expression is beyond confused as he mouths Wha-?

“How is this possible? I don't understand.” You can't believe he even tried that on you. He would have controlled you back to his side, made you do gods know what. Even though it was brought up in the debrief with Stark and Rogers, you never actually thought Loki would try it. Rogers mentioned there could always be a possibility...

“It was a theory the Captain had after much discussion,” you say. “But ultimately...” you force your voice to stay strong and will your tears to stay put. “My heart still belongs to you.”

You let him soak up your words. “Only, in the purest sense. I don't know the science or the magic behind it, but your sceptre won't work on me. My heart, my mind, my body,” you choke back a sob. “Every part of me is yours despite how much I hate everything you're doing.”

“I- I do not know what to say.”

“Say you'll end this, Loki. I'm begging you. Please.”

“I can't, darling,” he almost whispers. “It's too late.”

“Please. It's never-”

Loki gestures to the terrace. The Tesseract in the Scientist's machine beams a blinding light up to the sky, where a hole opens, finding never ending herds of alien beings flying down into New York City.

The Chitauri army.

Laser blasts shoot out from their extraterrestrial vehicles, attacking innocent civilians. It was too late. The chaos has only just begun.

A/N: Guys, I know it's corny, but I hope you were able to suspend your disbelief with the whole "sceptre-not-working-on-you-because-your-heart-is-still-his" thing.

Part 20

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