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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

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Hi! Um I was wondering if you could write a Domestic Bakugou where they were doing the do and the kid( I forgot his name wtf-😭) caught them? And then Like the next day at school my boy boy is doing it do other girls in his class- NOT LIKE IN A SEXUAL WAY👴🏽🤏🏽🕶 like when they got caught bakugo would say” I’m just protecting your mom from my villains” or sum shit💀✋🏽 So now he is like trying protect his friends 😭Just wondering😁

Ima crack writer so HERE WE GO!!😎

Do As I Say, Not As I Do

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Crack, smexy times, cursing, domestic

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

“S-Slow down Suki!”

Your husband pounded into you at an alarming pace. Katsuki came home from work feeling a little frisky and so when their beloved son, Katsuo, was fast asleep, the couple decided to get it on. It was around four in the morning and you two had been going at it for an hour, already 3 orgasms in.

Your bodies were covered underneath the blanket as Bakugou rammed into you. His large arms held your torso close as your own wrapped around his neck. His aching member slipped in and out of you, head just kissing your cervix, as his heavy balls smacked against the swell of your ass. The sound in the room was terribly loud. The way your skin smacked against one another and your moans created a rough melody of sex. Thankfully, you lived in a rather large home and your son’s room was far, far away. Good thing he was a deep sleeper too.

“What’s wrong princess? Can’t handle it?” Katsuki teased with his hot breath against your neck. At your every cry to go slower (in fear of awakening your son) Katsuki sped up his rhythm.

“F-Fuck!” You screamed. Katsuki rose above you and captured your neck in his hand. He stayed close to you as his free hand went to your hip and brought you close to him while he slammed into you. The fast movements caused the bed frame to bang against the wall as Katsuki moaned into your ear.

“S-Shit baby! Oh fuck, you feel so good. So perfect wrapped around my cock.” He groaned in your ear. The immense pleasure and husky voice had your back arching, giving your husband the chance to wrap his arm under you and flip you both over. You tried to keep the blanket covering you both as you bounced up and down his dick, but failed as the fabric traveled down to only cover your lower ass.

As you bounced, Katsuki continued to thrust up into you. His hands held onto your ass and gave it a smack from time to time. “K-Katsuki! I’m gonna cum! Please! Mm, yes! Don’t stop!”

At the sound of your voice, Katsuki’s hands went straight to your clit and ferociously rubbed at it. His actions had you throwing your head back and your pussy clenching around him. Katsuki noticeably jumped a bit when you began to tighten around his cock.

“Oh baby! God you’re squeezing me so damn tight.” He said as he kissed your chest. “F-Fuck, gonna make me put another brat inside ya. You want that? Wanna be full of my seed? Give me another one, yeah?”

You nodded your head as your eyes filled with tears due to all the pleasure. His grip on your waist grew tighter as your legs began to shake. The sound of skin slapping sped up as you and Bakugou drew closer and closer to your climax.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He screamed as you moaned loudly. You both came at the same time and to silence the both of you, Katsuki pulled you in for a kiss. You both moaned into it as your hips grinded on his dick. His hand squeezed at your ass again before giving it another smack and then soothing the stinging sensation with soft rubs.

You kiss would’ve continued had it not been for a sweet little voice coming from the doorway. “Dad?”

At the sound, Katsuki instantly jumped and flipped you both over again, covering your bodies with the large sheet. He layed atop of you while you looked away from your son. The blanket covered you both, leaving nothing but your heads exposed. “Katsuo! Hi son, what’re you..Uh what’re you doing up?”

“What’re you guys doing?” Your son asked with his doe eyes he inherited from you. Katsuki’s member throbbed from inside you and he grunted at the feeling.

“Umm...I was just- just...protecting Mom from villains!” You gawked at your husband for his idiotic response. Out of everything he could’ve said, he said that?!

“Cool! I wanna help!” Your son said starry eyed but when he took a step to come closer, Katsuki screamed out.

“N-No! Uh- no, it’s okay bud. She’s fine. Okay? Uh..please go back to your room and go back to sleep. Okay? Yes? Please?” Katsuki asked with a hurried voice. Your son only smiled and nodded before running back to his room.

You both visibly became less tensed as the two of you released relieved sighs. You turned your head to your husband who remained inside of you and slanted your eyes at him when he gave you a cheeky smile. “We sure got outta that one, huh?”

“Get the hell off of me Katsuki!” You said, pushing his face away from you. The shove caused Katsuki’s member to slip out of you and you gasped at the loss. Katsuki smirked down at you and you only grunted at him. “Really? Protecting me from villains? that’s the best that you could come up with?!”

“Well what was I supposed to say?!” He screamed.

“Uh, I DONT KNOW! Maybe, ‘Oh, Mommy’s just cold. Oh, we’re not doing anything son. Oh, THIS IS JUST A FUCKING DREAM!!’ I mean, c’mon Katsuki!” You said.

“Would you have rather had me tell him I was stuffing your pretty pussy?” He asked with a smirk. You rewarded him with a smack to his chest and a pointed finger.

“I don’t need your sarcasm.”

Katsuki only backed up a bit to see the wrecked sight of you and noticed the white cream leaking out of you and onto the bed. “Heh, what you need is for daddy to fill you up one more time.”

“Yeah right, your horny ass just wants to cum again.” You said with sass.

“Yeah, guess what? You’re right, so help me satisfy myself. Besides, you got to cum four times while I’m sitting at two,” he said while peppering your face in kisses from above. “At least let me have one more, baby.”

You smirked and this time it was you that flipped each other over. Katsuki sat up while you sat on his groin. “I’ll help you in another way, Daddy.”

You kissed his lips for a few seconds before moving south to go down on him. It has been awhile since you’ve tasted your husband so this should definitely excite him. Katsuki was definitely shocked but couldn’t stop the huge smile growing on his face. He watched you swallow his member and when you hummed with his cock sitting in your throat, he threw his head back.

“Fuck yes Princess.” His hand found way into your hair as he helped you bob your head up and down. Katsuki was in for a long, long morning.

—

Speaking of mornings, Katsuo was going to be having an exciting one. He had a morning play date with Kirishima’s son and the twin Todoroki sisters.

Akio, Kirishima’s son, came by early and so you were happy to see the two boys getting along so well, just like their fathers. With the exception of Katsuo being much more nicer than Katsuki of course. When you opened the door to greet your best friend, Momo, and her two daughters, you assured the girls that they’d have a fun time.

The twins ran in after greeting you and giving you a hug which left you a few minutes to speak to Momo before she left. You walked to the glass door that gave view of the kids in the backyard and noticed how Homura (the twin with red hair) had gone to play with Akio while Yukine (the twin with white hair) had been drawn to Katsuo.

You always noticed the little blush on your son’s face whenever Yukine came around. You thought his little crush on the icy-calm girl was absolutely adorable. “Kids!”

The little 5 year olds turned their heads to see you calling for them.

“Come inside, the movie’s almost on!” Seeing their faces perk up at the sound of the children’s movie, you giggled and motioned for them to come in. They all happily followed you and got comfy on the large couch. You placed a few snacks on the table for them before turning the T.V on. “Alright Katsuo. You’re the oldest and Mommy has some training to do. Daddy’s upstairs working if you need anything but if you’re all set, can I trust you to keep everything steady in here?”

“I promise Mom!” Your young boy joyously said. You gave him a warm smile before pecking his cheek and walking to the master bedroom to change. You walked in to find your husband on his laptop finishing his reports on the bed.

You walked to your dresser and pulled out a bathing suit. This caught your husband’s attention and had him smirking in the corner. “If you put that on, I’m assuming that’s an invitation for me to rail you~”

You giggled at his wording before walking to him and giving him a quick peck. “It’s for training dummy. I’m gonna head downstairs to the pool and workout with my water bending.”

Katsuki still held his smirk as he pushed away his laptop and pulled you into his lap. You were a bit jumpy but nonetheless settled while straddling his lap. “I have another idea for a workout and if you’re wondering, it does involve bending.”

He pulled you in for a few sweet kisses before you hovered your lips above his own to speak. You smiled as you placed your hands on his chest to keep the horn dog at bay. “What is with you recently? First it’s you coming home to fuck me stupid and now it’s getting riled up from me just holding a bikini.”

“Can you blame me? I married the most beautiful woman in the world, so please believe I’m gonna take full advantage of that.” He replied. You chuckled a bit before he pulled you in for more kisses and a little heated make out session. Your tongues came in contact and began tangling as he took you by your ass and had you grind down on him.

“Mm..Suki, stop,” you said with a laugh as you pulled away. “Seriously, there’s kids downstairs and we definitely don’t want a repeat of what happened last night with our own.”

Bakugou just huffed and groaned while slumping in his spot. You knew he wasn’t mad because as you got off of him and walked the the bedroom door, you looked back at him to see him smiling at you with eyes that carried all the love in the world. You smiled back before walking downstairs.

As you walked down the hall, you hummed a little happy tune to yourself. You love your little family so much. Your beloved husband and your precious son meant the world to you. Nothing could ruin your mood. At least, that’s what you thought before a loud smack interrupted your humming. Your head snapped to the sound and you immediately ran to the living room to check up on the kids.

—

“Are you sure you’re doing it right, Katsuo?” Yukine’s sweet voice said.

“Yeah, yeah. I think my Dad went like..this? *SMACK*” Yukine released a little yelp at the hit and that was when you caught sight of everything.

“Uh, guys?” You asked while walking into the scene. “Is everything alright in- AHHHH!”

You walked in to find Homura and Akio in the kitchen putting plates away and your son and Yukine on the couch. What made you scream was the fact that Yukine was straddling your son’s lap and you just witnessed Katsuo smack her behind. You immediately ran to the two and picked Yukine up while putting her on the couch and dragging your son by the ear up to your room while constantly saying “No, no, no, no, no, no, no...”

—

Katsuki was continuing his work after you left but after just a few minutes, you came back in constantly saying “no” as you dragged your son in by his tiny ear.

“No, no, no, no, nope! No! NO!” You said and tugged Katsuo in by the ear and shut the door. “Katsuo? Sweetie? What was that all about?”

“Woah, hey, what’s going on?” Katsuki asked, shutting his laptop and getting up from the bed. “Katsuo what’d you do?”

“Nothing! I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Mom just came in and started yelling.” Your son said in defense. Your husband looked to you in confusion but you sighed before whispering to him.

“Katsuki, I walked into the living room and Yukine was straddling Katsuo while he grabbed and smacked her ass!” You whisper-yelled. Katsuki’s eyes popped and his head snapped towards his son. On the inside, he wanted to laugh because damn his son was a playaaaaa but unfortunately he had to be a professional parent right now.

Katsuki walked to his son and crouched to his level. “Uh, Katsuo? Why did you smack Yukine? And why was she sitting on you?”

“I was doing what you did.” Katsuo simply said. Katsuki tilted his head in confusion with pointed brows as he pressed for more explanations.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“I was protecting Yukine from villains cuz I wanna be a hero, just like you Dad!” Your son said with his adorable smile. “Just like how you were protecting Mom last night!”

Katsuki visibly got choked up at the last sentence and his mouth formed an “o” as he slowly turned to look up at you. He was still crouching as he stared up at your angry form that held eyes of fury and crossed arms. You looked towards your husband with a raised brow and he began to sweat a little with a nervous laugh leaving his mouth.

“Um, okay son. You had good intentions which is great but..you see..uhhhh....Y/N?” Katsuki asked for help as he turned towards you. You sighed and dropped your head as you walked to the two and dropped down to your son’s level.

“Katsuo, the way your dad was..protecting me last night is only for adults. Not for little angels like you. So please don’t do it again, okay?” You said while holding his little hands.

“Am I in trouble Mom?” Your son asked with a small pout.

“Of course not sweetie. Your dad was right, you had good intentions. Just- please don’t do it again my love.” You said with a wavering smile. Katsuo smile and nodded before asking another question.

“Can I do it when I’m older?” He asked with his pure child innocence. You froze up a bit and Katsuki laughed a little bit you turned to him and smacked his arm to get him to shut up.

“Uh- we’ll have that talk later, bud. For now just, please don’t do it. Okay? From now on, do as I say and not as I do.” Katsuki said and Katsuo listened. He nodded his head and you released a relived sigh before standing up and glaring at your husband. You dragged him by his arm to a corner and pointed a finger into his chest.

“The next time some B.S like this happens again, you won’t have to worry about protecting me from villains for a month. Am I clear, Katsuki?” You said with slanted eyes. Your husband had a quivering smile as he looked at you in very slight fear.

“Crystal.” He replied. You walked out the room to go and check on the kids leaving the boys in the room by themselves. Once your were a good distance away, Katsuki walked over to his son and looked down at him. Katsuki looked to each side of the room before looking back at your son and speaking. “Did Yukine make a noise when you hit her?”

Katsuo nodded and Katsuki smiled down at his boy before ruffling his head and pushing him to the bedroom exit. Katsuo understood and opened the door to go back downstairs as he laughed at his father’s rough but loving treatment. As Katsuki watched his son from the bed he couldn’t help but whisper a little. “That’s my boy. So proud.”

“What?” Katsuo asked as he thought he heard his father say something. Katsuki looked everywhere in the room except at the tiny child at the door.

“Huh? What? Hm? Ah, no, no. Nothing. Uh-...go back downstairs.” He said and Katsuo nodded before exiting. Katsuki layed back down on the bed with his arms behind his head as he smiled contently at the ceiling. “*sigh* Yeah, that’s definitely my son.”

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04

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bukojuiice · 3 years

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the way of the househusband — levi ackerman

ೃ pairing: (husband! levi ackerman x ceo wifey! reader)

ೃ There is the “ideal” nuclear family. The one composed of a working husband with a well-paying 9 to 5 job, loving housewife who cooks and cleans, and adoring children who do well in school. However, that idealization is looong gone. What about you and your family? You are the CEO of a Tech Start-up Company who ain’t no trophy wife, Your husband hails from the last line of Ackermans and who temporarily resigns from being a vice executive of your company (just because he doesn’t want to work with young, feeling philanthropist, and genius GenZers) to become a hands-on househusband, and then there’s your little daughter who has the most inquisitive mind and adventurous heart who idolizes her doting father in every shape, way, and form. A month’s absence in your home (due to a business trip) could lead to many many things. But, your husband randomly publishing a self-help book on parenting and being a househusband is not one of those things.

ೃ genre and warnings: modern au, domestic fluff, baby au, husband au,

ೃ my nav → my aot masterlist

ೃ 4k words

ೃ Will be referring to hanji as “aunkling” (a cute nickname that some kiddos use to refer to their non-binary relatives <3) because there are no official non-binary terms for aunt and uncle! + your daughter with levi is named amelia and she is just the most precious cinnamon roll

It’s done.

The Business Trip is finally over.

A long and painful month of no hugs and playdates with your little princess, Amelia and no time to be pampered with love and affection from your husband, Levi was finally over!

Sometimes, you wonder how you were even able to survive these long-ass trips and conferences. Sure, these month-long trips only happened once a year, but the thought of Amelia getting older and having to miss a day of seeing her grow up and discover the world, really hurt you as all mothers would. Video Calls were enough to satisfy you and give you happy hormones even for just a short while, but still- the longer you’re not with them, the more the yearning lengthens until you’re just riddled with endless thoughts of wanting to get home as soon as possible.

First, let’s set things straight: You are the CEO of a Tech Start-up company who was born into a middle-class family and rose her way up to success. It’s as cliche as it gets but hey! Living a life as if you were in a romantic comedy was the best compliment you’ve ever gotten.

Along with that, as far as rich families in rom-coms and coming of age movies go, are they all dysfunctional in reality? Not really. Or at least you and Levi promised each other not to end up like that. The Rich Girl meets Poor Boy (with a tragic backstory) cliche however? Yea, that’s a pretty accurate way to describe your love story. Meeting the love of your life in a Coffee Shop is actually pretty common and happens to a lot of people apparently. When Erwin Smith, Levi’s best friend (who is too smart and self-aware to fit the role of a rom-com sidekick by the way) approaches your table to ask if he and Levi could sit with you. (Because of all the days the cafe would be packed, it would be that day.) You said yes of course, and Erwin began oversharing details about the raven-haired man and you were all too invested in learning more about him anyway. Levi grew up in the orphanage after his mother had died and his father was the biggest asshole on the planet for never showing his face, he had to fend for himself after he outgrew the foster system. Starting out as an espionage in an illegal underground gambling empire to a bookkeeper at the Smiths’ bookshop. (Although this is a story for another day)

Internally swooning over his pretty eyes and resting bitch face...it didn’t take long until the two of you fell in love and... the rest was history!

You come home to your lavish yet homey apartment in 21 West End Avenue Manhattan to be surprised by your father-daughter duo absolutely knocked out on the couch. Amelia was snuggled up to her father, her feet on his lap and a sleeping position you could not possibly comprehend, a Disney movie playing in the background, and both of them were wearing matching Minion onesies whilst yours was folded neatly on the coffee table just waiting to be worn by you when you got home.

It was a rare sight to see and you can’t help but just stare lovingly at the wonderful scene before you. Not only was it rare to see Amelia asleep before seeing you (or in the case of your business trips, during your daily video calls with them) but it was also rare to see your husband sleeping so soundly and his insomnia not kicking in.

Amelia hears your footsteps, her eyes are still shut as she tries to predict what you will do next. She finally assesses when she will make her move and surprise you when you place another fleece blanket on top of them and plant a kiss on both of their temples. your daughter’s eyes suddenly flutter open. Her eyes beaming and glowing off the same light that twinkled in her father’s as she jumps off the couch, making sure not to wake up Levi.

“MOMMY!” She screams in the most quiet volume her cute voice could muster. She runs up to you and envelops you in a tight hug, jumping up and down as she does so. “I missed you Mommy! I missed you soooo much! How was sandbox in K-korea!? Was there a lot of sand!? Did you have a lot of pwaymates there!?”

You giggle at your daughter’s enthusiasm, combing your fingers through her hair. “Lili, Sandbox is like the Silicon Valley of Korea. It isn’t necessarily a sandbox like in a playground, baby.”

“OOOH! JUST LIKE SIWICON VAWWEY!” She chirps, tightening her hug and reaching for your hand and squeezing it. “AH WAIT!” She gently pushes you away and makes a beeline to her room. “ME AND DADDY HAVE A SURPRISE FOR YOU! BUT CLOSE YOUR EYES FIRST OWKAAY?!” She calls out from her room and you shout back a “yes!” to her in between your giggles, unable to contain the sudden rush of serotonin your daughter had given you from her simple yet adorable antics.

Another trope that you can debunk is that rich moms can be a hands-on parent too! After your maternity leave ended and when Amelia had finally reached her toddler years, you absolutely made sure that you were going to take care of her every second, minute, hour and day of your life. As soon as she turned two, she became the inquisitive, smart and ever so curious little girl you and Levi had always hoped for. She had your (h/c) hair and Levi’s icy yet warm and loving milky grey eyes. If the color of Levi’s reminded you of dark and stormy clouds, Amelia’s was gleaming. Like that of the clouds after a terrible storm. She was an absolute blessing and although you weren’t a perfect mother, (spoiling her more than you should) Levi was an amazing father. Growing up without parents was tough for him and he was going to make sure that Amelia is going to have an amazing childhood and be surrounded by the love of two parents that he never had and never got to experience.

You always and will forever have trust in Levi. There has never been a day where you doubted him. Despite the impressions and assumptions that people have of him. How he was cold, scary, and even calculating. But, you are always quick to shut down those rumors. They don’t know the Levi Ackerman behind the cold and mighty front he shows. He is a man who has gone through so much and yet has so much love and care to give. How he notices and remembers the littlest details, how he never takes anything for granted and how he loves and cherishes everything so wholeheartedly.

When Amelia turned six, you sadly had to go back to work formally. Right timing too because your genius (with very himbo tendencies) younger cousin, Eren, was about to be part of your start-up company and he had a lot of amazing plans that had to come into fruition. Even bringing in a group of his own friends (who all graduated in MIT by the way!) who are willing to contribute so many amazing ideas and hackathons that were just waiting to happen.

The entrance of these youthful and hopeful genius entrepreneurs also brought about the temporary exit of your very own husband from your very own company. Apparently, working with newly graduated Gen Zers (as a millennial) was too much for him. They were nice and they were going to be a very integral part of the company. But, the boomer inside Levi can’t just can’t keep up with this sudden surge of energy and youthfulness within the higher-ups. It was also a great opportunity for him to take care of Amelia even more. So, you didn’t stop him from doing so!

It’s been a year since he temporarily resigned and became an official-unofficial househusband. Or as your best friend Hanji likes to put it, You are the Girl Boss and he is the Male Wife. Amelia is now 7 years old and she’s currently taking Ballet classes (Levi picks her up during the weekdays, and the both of you pick her up on the weekends) and has developed a hyperfixation over Sanrio Characters and the Disney movie, Frozen. She was growing up to be a wonderful girl and you just can’t wait to hear what she and Levi had done during your absence.

She skips her way back to you, a book tightly clutched in her hands. “SURPRISE!” Amelia gingerly places a book on your hand. You open your eyes and tilt your head in question at the piece of literature she had just given you as you read the title aloud. “The Way of the House Husband… written by Levi Ackerman.” Your eyes shift to a little circle on the lower side of the cover, “The husband of (Y/N) Ackerman, the CEO of Survey Corp Tech…!?”

“Daddy and I made a book while you were away!” She claps her hands together and grabs the book back from you, turning it to the first page. “See there’s even a dedication! To (Y/N) and Amelia! The two brightest stars in my galaxy!”

“Oh that’s too cheesy. No way would your dad write something like this out of the blue, Lili.” You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. Your daughter looks at you with downcast eyes while you were still trying to process that your husband literally just wrote a whole-ass book while you were away. “Who helped publish this so quickly, Amelia?”

“Uncle Erwin of course!” She’s frowning for one second and now she’s beaming at you again. “Please please read it mommy! Me and daddy worked really really hard on it!” She taps the hardbound cover of the book in rhythms. “This is the Amelia Edition! Daddy said he cut out some stuff so that it would be okay for me to read and for me to give to you once you get home! It’s my come back home gift for you mommy!” She moves the book to your lap and hops up next to you on the loveseat that you were sitting on. Before you know it, Amelia is resting her head on your shoulder and coaxing you to start reading to her like it was a bedtime story.

You clear your throat and hold her by the waist so that she can feel more secure in her seat. “Okay… okay… let’s begin shall we? In a kingdom far far away…”

“That’s not how the book is like mommy! Read it properly like the way daddy did!”

“I was just joking, honey. Let’s get started. Rule #1 of the House Husband is…”

Rule #1: Fathers, be good to your children. You are the weight of their world.

“One thing I learned as soon as I was at home practically 24/7 is that your child will be more cautious and weary of you. They will observe you because they look up to you. They will watch your every move, follow you around, and will imitate whatever you say and whatever they hear from you. Talk to them, teach them things they need to know, support them in their hobbies, interests, and even if you have to be the extra princess in her tea party, do it. The thing is, you will leave an eternal mark on the hearts of your children.”

Amelia got even more closer to Levi when he was finally stationed at home. Always grinning from ear to ear and boasting to her classmates how cool her dad was whenever he would pick her up from school. She was proud to tell them Levi’s heritage even if Amelia never got to meet her Grandma Ackerman and Grandpa Ackerman. When Levi would take her out for errands, may they be groceries, cleaning the house, baking, cooking, laundry, or just going on his morning jog, Amelia would be there to accompany him. In fact, she’s gone shopping with Levi so many times that she has memorized the brand names of cleaning detergent and bleach before she could even memorize the multiplication table.

She’s even caught up with her father’s cynical sense of humor. And because of that, Levi had to tone down on his sardonic jokes around the little girl. Levi wasn’t necessarily physically affectionate but he does soften around Amelia as the little girl never fails to supply him with endless hugs and kisses on the cheek. She may be both a Mommy’s and Daddy’s girl, but the way she looks up to Levi is the kind of father-daughter bond that you hardly see in real life. She aspires to be like him. Even if there were times where she would be scolded by you both, (most especially Levi) she never took that against you. She sees all the good and positive sides of your husband that others outside of your circle fail to see.

Rule #2: Let your children know that they have other “guardian angels” who they can rely on aside from their parents.

“My daughter has both my wife and I’s best friends to learn from or to look up to. Her kooky aunkling and her blunt uncle have become one of the most precious people in her life. Even the young ins working at Survey Corp Tech have become older siblings to her and get along with her so well. Remember that there will always be close relatives or friends who can and will help them when they lose their way. Let them spread sunshine and love to others.”

Whether it’s a regular trip to Coney Island or your monthly trips to Disneyland, Hanji or Erwin would totally tag along. Amelia absolutely loves and vibes with Hanji’s quirkiness so well. They would wear matching Mickey Mouse ears, ride the kiddie roller coaster that Amelia wanted to ride on a million times per visit, buy her all the ice cream and treats she wants (despite Levi’s warnings and the reprimanding that Hanji has to suffer from the both of you right after.) They just want Amelia to experience all the fun, the joy, and innocence of living in the moment. As a kid, it’s better if she sees how precious life is, how she should cherish it and that she doesn’t have to grow up so fast just yet.

Erwin on the other hand, brought out Amelia’s intellectual side more. As soon as a new and critically acclaimed children’s book hit the shelves, you bet Amelia has a copy right away. Whenever Levi would take her to Erwin’s bookstore, she wanders around like it’s this huge mysterious archive that can only be accessed by her. The Adults section is forbidden, so were the cheap romance novels in the back, and the books written by youtubers. God forbid she read those. When her Uncle Erwin got her into reading Roald Dahl’s children’s books, you had to watch Amelia run around the penthouse with a little red ribbon tied on top of her hair, wanting to be referred to as Matilda, along with you and Levi having to pretend that she had telekinetic powers for 6 months straight. It was her cutest phase yet and you just know there were many more to come.

There were also Eren and his friends who loved Amelia dearly whenever she came over to visit. Your little cousin refused to be called Uncle Eren and instead wanted to be called big bro, and in which Amelia happily complied. Whenever it was Amelia’s weekly “Visit Mommy at Work” day, she had her own room in your office where Eren and your other young associates would babysit her. In fact, they would actually take turns in babysitting at your condo whenever you and Levi went out for date night. Amelia was introduced to playing video games like Animal Crossing and Pokemon solely because of them (more specifically because of big bro Jean, big sis Sasha, and big bro connie.) They even ended up influencing her to watch anime when her big brother “Minmin” and big sis “Mimi” accidentally left the TV on and Amelia literally binge-watched half of the existing Studio Ghibli movies to this date.

Rule #3: Your children will think that you are Superman or Iron Man. Make sure to act like them and never let them down by ruining their innocence and imagination.”

(A little note was attached to this page: Please don’t let Amelia read this. Read her a fairy tale instead while skimming through this.)

“It all started when my daughter found an entire encyclopedia on ancient and legendary family clans around the world. The Ackerman clan was on the very first page after the intro and she read through all 50 pages of it. The look of awe on her face when she read that her dad’s ancestors exhibit physical abilities much higher than the average human. In a 7 year old’s mind and vocabulary, that automatically translates to a superhero akin to that of Superman.

Ever since then, My daughter has forced me to become more creative with doing very mundane tasks and chores. I pretend to have superpowers. Such as teleporting around the house whilst cleaning. I tell her to close her eyes or else my teleportation powers won’t work. Then when I cook in the kitchen and she watches me intently, I tell her that the salt and pepper have magical properties that only I can touch and hold because to her, at that moment, I was “Doctor Stwange.”

and one time, when I picked her up from school, she was babbling on about how she told her friends and playmates that she had two superhero parents she was very proud of. Then one of the other kids asked if I was a strong soldier who killed huge humanoid monsters using sharp blades. To which I replied that could have possibly happened in a different universe. Her hearty laughs and giggles whenever she sees me using my superpowers makes me anxious over the fact I have to tell her someday that my powers never existed.”

Whilst you were on your monthly trip, you and Levi would have private video calls whenever Amelia was finally put to bed. There, he told you about what happened in Amelia’s ballet classes that week and how the single mothers were more persistent than usual.

They could clearly see that Levi was not interested but apparently the fact that your husband waving his ring finger every single time someone approached him wasn’t obvious enough, apparently the fact that he was married made the risk even more worth it to these prying moms who had nothing better to do. It wasn’t until Amelia had enough and respectfully called them out by saying that his dad was married and he was never going to be interested in Karens (a slang word that she learned from Eren and friends) Since then, the invasion of parent to parent boundaries had finally stopped. Levi was very relieved and at ease whilst telling you the story yet you were laughing your heart out at the ingenious remarks of your very own daughter on top of the irresistible charm and looks of your own husband that made single mothers be damned.

Rule #4: The most important rule of all: Love your spouse as you want your children to be loved in the future.

“Since my wife is on a business trip right now as I type this and she may or may not know that I had written this book for her to read when she comes home, my daughter came up to me a few days ago and told me how she missed her mom so much. The video calls we had every night were not enough to satisfy her for the remaining days her mother would be gone. She then proceeds to tell me that she loves the way I love (Y/N). My daughter loved how patient I was and how I supported her through every endeavor that her mother had ever thought up with that brilliant mind of hers. She mentioned how I was there for her through every success and failure, through hardships, difficulties and misunderstandings. My daughter was happy because I stuck with her mother through everything. All the pain, suffering, conflicts that we both experienced individually and as husband and wife. Little ears and little eyes are watching and observing the actions and sweet gestures of their parents. Make sure to remember that.”

“What is gravy (grief) if not love persevewing?” (persevering) My daughter had even recounted a quote from the Disney Marvel show, WandaVision just to prove a point to me. That was when I realized something and decided to list down a few things:

1. The best lovers are the best of friends.

Levi’s relationship with you was rocky at first simply because the two of you didn’t have a lot in common. Your personalities clashed and the two of you could barely make things work in the beginning. He was always well-dressed, on time, and was very prim and proper. However, Levi was cold, strict, and unapproachable. You on the other-hand were quite the opposite. You used to arrive late, didn’t care too much about your style as long as you wore the appropriate outfit, but you were carefree, laidback and friendly. Having to set aside your differences was a process that required sacrifice, time, and effort. It took long and a lot of petty arguments before the two of you fully understood each other, accepted each other's faults and quirks, and became even closer. Both as friends and lovers. You and Levi treat each other not as just the “person I love and I’m married to for the rest of my life”, but also as a best friend for life. Soulmates

2. Their dreams are just as important as yours.

Levi’s dream was to open up a tea shop and start a family with you. That was all he ever wanted. The blissful simplicity of his in comparison to your techy and out of this world ambitions, goes to show how much they weigh as aspirations and wants in life. You have to value your significant other’s dreams and ambitions just as much as you highly value yours. No matter how hard or how simple they are, the both of you can achieve it with the help of each other. The only thing left in your agenda was to open up his long-awaited Tea Shop. You were about to surprise him with the plans of opening one up on the day of his birthday, and you just can’t wait for that day to finally come.

3. You have to let them be free.

Levi absolutely knew what he was getting into when he met you. It was love at first sight when he met you, He drunkenly admitted that one time when he’s had too much champagne on your friday date night. He knew that you were an adventurer. A wandering soul who had a goal and a purpose set in stone. He always knew you were going to reach greater heights and he knew that you would never leave him behind and would always have him go on a ride. He’s always known about your capabilities and your potential and he didn’t want you to stray away from that. And, if the time were to come that you had to leave him behind to soar greater heights, he’d understand that. He’d always let you be free and make sure you don’t fly too close to the sun. That was just how selfless Levi is. The thing is, he knows you would do the same for him. It was a perfect balance.

4. It is an honor to love and to be loved by them.

To be wrapped in the arms of someone who feels like home or has become the definition of home, To be stargazing with on a chilly summer night in where you talk about your future and your plans, To be sharing a cup of coffee or tea with in the morning and begrudgingly dancing with you against his will, To be watching your child playing in her room and do nothing but look adoringly at the most precious soul to have ever been produced by your encompassing love, and to be spending the rest of your life with someone who has done nothing but be with you through every pivotal moment in your life was such an honor.

It is an honor to be loved by Levi, as he is honored to be loved by you.

“...The end.” You close the book with a deep but contented sigh. Tears were welling up in your eyes and you’re trying your best not to break down in front of Amelia.

“Mommy… are you crying?” She tilts her head in inquiry. “Is it because you’re tired from work?”

“No. baby. These are happy tears, Lili. Don’t worry.”

Before you could speak up once more, you notice Levi had slowly sprung up from the couch, and began to stretch his arms. His eyes widen when he sees you from the opposite couch. “(Y/N)... you were supposed to arrive at 6 AM right? Amelia and I were supposed to pick you-”

Amelia opens her mouth to speak as she jumps down from the couch and crawls up to sit next to Levi. “Daddy! I showed Mommy the book you wrote! She loved it! Right, Mommy?”

“You did?” Your husband perks up from his seat, clearing his throat. “T-that’s not the entire book yet by the way. We had to give back the original copies to Erwin for reprinting. The self-help book is currently rising up the charts to be a New York Times Best Seller.”

Before Levi could properly react, you move to the free space on the couch next to him. Holding his hand and gazing into his forlorn yet loving eyes, you muttered. “Love, that’s amazing. I’m really really proud of you. Next time though, please do tell me that you’ve written a self-help book and dethroned all those mommy authors from the bestselling charts.”

Levi stifles a laugh, stroking your thumb and bringing you and Amelia closer to him for warmth. “I will. I will.”

Amelia looks up at the two of you, squeezing out of the sandwich, so that you and Levi can have your quality time with each other. “Goodnight Mom! Goodnight Dad!” She approaches the two of you so that she can be given her nightly kiss on the cheek as she retreats to her room.

“What if I write a novel too?” You joke, snuggling up to Levi, your husband wrapping his arm around you. “The title could be… The way of the Wife boss?”

“That could be a good sequel. A shared book universe. Then, Amelia could continue the collection when we’re old and sour as hell.” Levi mused.

“Pfft. I guess only time will tell. I love you Levi.”

“I love you too (Y/N).”

#attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fluff #shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk fluff #aot fluff #attack on titan fluff #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman

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rocorambles · 4 years

Text

Perfect

Pairing: Akaashi x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Toxic Relationships, Manipulation, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Forced Impregnation

Prompt: “I told you to stay still”

Summary: The perfect couple always has children. Multiple children. A full family. A house full of laughter and home-cooked meals. And you two are the epitome of a perfect couple. So why are you still so hesitant about taking the next big step?

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this spicy prompt. (Masterlist goes live Tuesday 6th October 11:00pm U.K. time!)

Akaashi’s always been an overthinker. He can admit that. He knows it’s a flaw he’s always had and could never seem to shake off. But just because he realizes it doesn’t mean he does anything about it. And the overwhelming pressure he places on himself in everything he does only fuels the suffocating thoughts until they’re screaming in his head. Unfortunately for you, his sweet darling wife, that only means terrible things for you and suddenly every move you make is alarming, every word you say is suspicious, every breath you take painstakingly monitored.

Akaashi just wants to be the perfect husband, the perfect lover, the perfect provider. He wants the two of you to be the perfect happily married couple, to live the perfect domestic life. So after years of playing house, of devoting all his attention and love on you, of spoiling you rotten with everything you could possibly want, when you tell him you aren’t ready to have children yet, he feels his cool facade slip and the incessant thoughts begin to drown him.

The perfect couple always has children. Multiple children. A full family. A house full of laughter and home-cooked meals. And you two are the epitome of a perfect couple. So why are you still so hesitant about taking the next big step? Are you tired of him? Do you not want to have kids with him? Are you planning on leaving him?

You nervously shift from foot to foot, intimidated by the chaos you see in blue eyes and you tentatively reach out to your husband, trying to understand what’s wrong, but you sigh in relief as he jolts at your touch, staring blankly at you before setting his face back to its usual serene countenance, slightly smiling at you as he nods in understanding and affectionately kisses your forehead. This is the Akaashi you’d fallen in love with and you happily sigh as you wrap your arms around his waist, letting yourself be rocked in his arms in a warm embrace, ignorant of how his face hardens as soon as his chin is tucked above your head, eyes thoughtful, mind scheming.

It takes some coaxing, some patient conversations during your most vulnerable moments when you were still groggily rubbing the sleep out of your eyes or yawning as you lay your head on the pillow to sleep at night, but he finally gets his answers and he smiles in endearment as you worry about whether or not you’re ready to be a mom. Would you even be a good mom? Oh. He’s sure you’re going to be the perfect mother and he makes a mental note to prove that to you until you see it for yourself, but he’s grateful for the darkness that hides his grimace when you go on to talk about how you also want to focus on your career for now. It’s not that Akaashi is against women working. He doesn’t hate how happy and fulfilled you feel as you ramble on and on about work, about your coworkers, about your salary and title. He just thinks you’d be even more perfect as his pretty little housewife and he quietly plans and strategizes as your breathing gets heavier and heavier until you’re fast asleep besides him on your shared bed.

He waits until your chest rises and falls in even rhythms before reaching over for your phone. You’ve always been so trusting, probably too trusting of him, but that works in his favor now as he flawlessly types in your password and dives into your alarms and work emails. A swipe there, a deletion here. He meticulously combs through your phone turning off your alarms, deleting important meetings, getting rid of urgent emails waiting for your response before he quietly places your phone on the nightside table by you, pleased with his work and he closes his own eyes, a small smile on his face as he peacefully sleeps.

Luckily, he leaves for work much earlier than you, so he’s out the door before you can even realize the messy day you’re about to have and he can’t be blamed for not waking you up when your alarm doesn’t go off. He patiently waits and waits, glancing at his phone every now and then, waiting for the onslaught of panicked and distressing texts he knows you’ll send his way as your day gets progressively worse and worse. And sure enough, his phone vibrates over and over again as you send a flurry of texts steeped in negative emotions and like the perfect husband he is, he sends the consoling and comforting notes you need. And when you call, crying and sobbing about being yelled at, about how awful at your job you are, he’s there to soothe you.

“Don’t cry, love. It’s not your fault. You’re an amazing woman. Maybe this just isn’t the right job for you or the right company for you.”

He plants the seeds of doubt in your mind and you let them be watered by the sweet suggestions he sprinkles on you. And with just a few more flicks of his wrist in the middle of the night when you’re asleep, ignorant of your phone being used without your knowledge, and a little bit of time, you’re finally fired and he’s there, rushing back home to wrap you in his arms. But he smiles when instead of being distraught, you merely sit there quietly as you tuck yourself against him.

“Maybe this just wasn’t the right job for me, Keiji.”

He encourages you to take some time off from the workforce. You had worked so hard for so long. You deserve a break. And you mindlessly nod along to his silky voice. Relaxing does sound nice. You had thrown yourself into your job so much that you’d forgotten what it was like to have so much free time and you begin to excitedly ponder what hobbies you could pick up to fill the days, what projects around the house you could finally get done.

Akaashi sighs when his alarm goes off the next morning, but he sits up in confusion when the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air and he blearily turns to your side of the bed, freezing when he finds it empty. But his groggy mind begins to put two and two together and he rushes towards the kitchen where he feels like his heart might burst at the sight of you humming, an apron daintily wrapped around you as you pour a generous amount of dark caffeine in his favorite mug. And he can’t stop himself from closing the distance between you as he tenderly wraps you in his arms, turning you around until you’re face to face as he captures your lips in a good morning kiss. He wants every morning to be like this, he thinks, as he mentally captures the image of you smiling and waving goodbye to him from the apartment door. The perfect loving wife seeing her husband off.

You spend your long days at home tidying up the house, decorating spaces in the house you’d always wanted to spruce up but never had time to before, spending hours in the kitchen cooking and baking everything you’d always wanted to try. It’s nice to fall into a domestic rhythm with Akaashi and work is far from your mind as you cheerily greet your husband when he comes home, as the two of you pleasantly chat while he eats the piping hot delicious meal you’ve prepared for him, as he hand feeds you the brownies you had made as the two of you sit on the couch and watch a show together.

But as time goes on, you find yourself twiddling your thumbs a bit with just a little too much idle time on your hand now that the interior of the apartment is exactly up to your dream standards of cleanliness and decor. And you can’t help but wonder how nice it would be to have a small child running about the place, keeping you company while Akaashi is away at work. You freeze when the thought crosses your mind and your brows furrow in confusion. Where had that thought come from? You’d never wanted kids before. And yet...You quickly shove that fleeting idea to the back of your mind as you refold laundry that had already been handled, throwing yourself into anything that could distract you from the strange desires plaguing your mind.

Little do you know how much Akaashi has influenced you in the time you’ve been stuck at home. Little do you know that the daily evening walks he takes you on after dinner are always purposefully done around the nearby children parks. Little do you know that the little comments and remarks he makes about how adorable that child is, how silly this child is aren’t as offhand as you think. They’re strategically strung together words just for you and he slightly smiles when he sees them weaving through your mind as your eyes soften and a longing smile begins to tug at your lips when you turn to look at what he’s talking about. Little do you know that it’s no accident when the two of you go shopping and find yourselves passing aisles of children’s toys and clothing. And Akaashi feels his chest tighten with affection when you unconsciously skim your fingers over the tiny shoes and onesies, asking him for his opinions.

“Aren’t these cute, Keiji?”

And he nods his head as he reaches down to hold your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours as you continue perusing.

He knows he almost has you right where he wants you. He can almost see the cogs turning in your head, see you imagining a life with him and a family...your own little family. It’s time for the final step and he secretly keeps tabs on the convenient period tracking app you have on your phone waiting and waiting until your next ovulation period and when it comes, you squeal in surprise when he impatiently whisks you off to your shared bedroom and presses you down onto the bed as soon as he steps into the house after work.

His movements are so hurried, so rough, so unlike how Akaashi normally is, but you eagerly reciprocate, excited to see this side of your husband and you’re a moaning, writhing mess as he bites and sucks every inch of your skin, a trail of red skin following in his wake as he marks up your neck, collarbones, and breasts. You’re already dripping wet by the time he finally reaches down to rub your clit and slip his fingers inside of you and your hips buck up into his touch, urging him for more. Your head is swirling with lust and you whine when he briefly slips away to guide the tip of his cock against your leaking hole and you shudder in desire when you feel him running his tip along your slit. But even in your dazed state, you feel yourself hesitate a bit when you see that he isn’t using a condom.

“Keiji, I’m ovulating. You need to use a cond- AH!”

You’re cut off as he slides his cock inside of you, your slick walls greedily sucking him in with little resistance and you try to muster up the words to repeat yourself, but you can’t articulate anything as he leans down to suck a perky nipple as he begins to thrust in and out of you in a sensual, but thorough pattern, making sure you can feel every inch of him rubbing against your clenching walls, making sure you can feel him sink balls deep inside of him, making sure you can feel him stimulate the spongy spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. And you give up, trusting that he’d at least pull out before he cums, and you lose yourself to the feeling of being so used and filled, feeling the coil in your stomach grow tighter and tighter, and when blue eyes gaze down at you and he hungrily leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, you fall over the edge, your pleasured wails swallowed by your husband’s lips as he chases his own end.

You lay there in mind numbing bliss as he continues to sink in and out of your tight heat, letting out little mewls of overstimulation, but when you feel the erratic rhythm of his thrusts and you see the telltale look on his face as he closes his eyes that indicate he’s close and he makes no attempt to pull out, you weakly shake his shoulders, squirming and wriggling your body from underneath him as you try to pull away.

“K-Keiji, NGH you can cum on me. Okay? AH B-but, you can’t cum inside me.”

You scream when large hands roughly grab your waist in a bruising grip and forcefully pull you down until he’s fully inside you once again.

“Stay still.”

You whimper, trying to be good for him, but anxiety is beginning to cloud your pleasure and you struggle once again, pleading with him and telling him you don’t want to get pregnant. But you keen when that only spurs him on to fuck you rougher, harder, deeper and your eyes roll back as you try to register the almost painful overstimulation you’re going through.

“I told you to stay still.”

And this time you do stay still, unable to do anything else but lay there like a good obedient wife as he pistons in and out of you, your mouth open in a persistent silent scream as your hands desperately scramble to find purchase in the rumpled bed sheets and you brokenly moan when he finally shoves inside of you with one final thrust and your stomach feels hot as spurts of liquid spill inside of you.

You’re in shock as he stays buried inside of you, trapping your body with his as he lays down on top of you, nuzzling and kissing the crook of your neck as he keeps his cum inside of you and you’re not sure how much time passes as you just lay there, mind blank as you try to come to terms with what had just happened. But when you feel his cock begin to twitch and harden inside of you once more, you frantically try to push him away from you, try to separate yourself from him.

“Keiji, stop it! I need to go get Plan B or something. I-”

Your mind is a chaotic swirl as you try to figure out next steps to avoid this unwanted pregnancy and you think you might throw up at the idea of being pregnant, having a child, all so suddenly, so fast.

You’re not ready. You’re not ready. You’re not ready.

Your thoughts are shattered to pieces when you’re shoved back down onto the mattress and you loudly wail when Akaashi begins an unforgiving pace once again, brutally slamming his hips into yours, his cum acting as lubrication, making it easier for him to plow into you and take you over and over again. And the last coherent thought you have is that you were such a fool to not realize just how much stronger, how much larger Akaashi is compared to you as your attempts to shake him off are easily ignored by the man above you.

You don’t know how much time has passed. It feels like an eternity and you’re not sure how you’re still conscious as Akaashi breeds you over and over again. Your mouth is open in a persistent silent scream, your eyes are rolled so far back in your head you can barely see, tears and drool mar your face. Everything feels so good, too good, and you can’t stop sobbing from the overwhelming pleasure you feel as Akaashi keeps on spilling load after load of sticky white liquid inside of you and you curl into Akaashi’s body instinctively for comfort when he sinks down on top of you, exhaustion finally catching up with him. And the two of you just lay there, chests heaving as you both heavily pant, his flaccid cock still buried inside of you, plugging his cum inside of you. And even though you want to yell at him, to be angry at him for forcing this on you, you’re so spent, head empty of anything except for Akaashi that you let yourself be maneuvered until you’re both on your sides, facing each other, your lower bodies still intimately connected.

You let out a little whimper when you feel a large hand gently stroke your cum-filled stomach, but you can feel your face and body grow hot when his other hand gently nudges your chin up to look at him and you see the look of pure love and adoration in his eyes.

“You’re going to look so beautiful with your belly bulging with my children, our children.”

You let out a breathy gasp when he teasingly fondles one of your pebbled nipples and palms your fleshy mound.

“You’re going to look so beautiful when these swell up with milk. I wonder if our children would be willing to share some with their father.”

Sweet word after word spills from his lips and you listlessly lay there listening to him go on and on, painting a picture of what your future lives together would look like, and before you can catch yourself from falling deeper into his trap, your mind betrays you and images flash across your vision and you unconsciously draw even nearer to Akaashi, cuddling into his body affectionately as picture perfect scenes of you braiding a little girl’s hair while Akaashi teaches a little boy how to play volleyball flicker across your imagination. And when Akaashi feels you gently place your hand on top of his hand that’s still cradling your stomach practically sloshing with the amount of liquid he’s gifted you with tonight, he knows he’s got you hook, line, and sinker.

That night the two of you fall asleep, dreaming about the perfect life you’re going to have together.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu yandere #yandere haikyuu #akaashi x reader #yandere akaashi #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: manipulation #tw: yandere

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ellana-ravenwood · 4 years

Text

Sick Day - Batfam x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : It’s never fun to be sick. Duh. But when you have loving parents there to take care of you, maybe it isn’t so bad ? Just short little snippets of the first time each Batkids fell ill in Wayne Manor, and how Bruce and his wife (you :D) dealt with it.

Another “burst of the moment inspiration” story, just a little drabble. Promise I’ll post something more elaborate soon :), hope you’ll like it :

My master list blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

(Thanks to that anon who mentioned the kids getting shots, that gave me with this an idea on how to start this fic :D. The original beginning was different, I think I like that one better hehe.)

"Mister Wayne, if you keep doing this, I'm not going to be able to give your son-Bruce for god's sake !"

Leslie Thompkins, for the first time in her long career, was about to lose her patience and give up on...giving a simple shot to a baby.

She has seen worried parents before, of course. The one that clung to their child’s hand, or those who would cry because their little one was in pain…

Babies that young, who had to get vaccinated for the first time, never really experienced this sort of quick pain before.

A lot of them would cry more out of surprise than because it really hurt. Oh and when the parents were extra worried, you could be sure the baby was even more likely to burst into tears, sensing his parents' distress.

Yes. doctor Thompkins gave shots to a LOT of babies, and saw a LOT of worried parents before…But never had she met someone quite like Bruce Wayne.

He always came to her when his kids were sick. He could go to a fancier office, or to one of those pricy fancy private hospitals. But no.

No because, when it came to his kids’ health, there was no one he trusted more than Doctor Leslie Thompkins.

So it was no surprise when he brought his youngest son, Thomas, to get his first shot ever. What was a surprise though, was his reaction.

"And now you know why I'm always the only one in the room when this happens."

You say, smiling apologetically to the doctor. But ah, at least your husband's reaction eased a little the tension in your body brought by the mere idea of your baby being hurt.

Every single time Leslie got the syringe close to your little one, Bruce would reflexively grab her wrist and stop her from giving the shot to his son.

Ridiculous, really.

But it seemed it was something he couldn't fight.

He apologized the first time he did it, as Dr Thompskins smiled and said it was ok, rather amused. But then the second time, it was getting clear he didn't seem to quite control himself. At the third time Bruce was visibly sweating. Dr Thompkins finally snapped as she tried for a fourth and fifth time to give a shot to little Thomas (who, at barely 2 months old, was much too young to even understand what was happening, but by his little smiles it was clear he was happy every time his father would come into his vision).

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just…I thought I could do it, but I can't."

And oh. Oh it's adorable the way he turns to you, his eyes saying "I'm sorry" as he takes his son back in his arms and holds him against his chest. You weren’t sure if it was to comfort little Tommy, or if he was comforting himself.

"I think I should just let you two handle this ?" He asks, unsure. He doesn’t want you to be mad or to think he’s abandoning you.

"I think this is a good idea Bruce, yes."

You smile at him reassuringly. It’s fine. It was always fine.

"I'm sorry, sorry I'm letting you do this alone once again. I just can't…"

"Oh it's ok my Broosh, I know you hate shots. I can handle it, and little buddy here sure can too."

Thomas coos happily as you pick him up delicately from his father's arms. Bruce resists a bit, before finally giving in and letting you take hold of the little one.

He lays a hand on his son's head, looking fondly at him (of this look he only gives his children, of this pure look full of unconditional love, and a hint of “what did I do to deserve this sort of happiness ?”) and then sighs, press a soft kiss to your forehead, murmuring a last “I’m sorry, my love” and leaves the room.

He feels a little ashamed to let you do this once again, but you've always been the strongest one out of the two. After all, you willingly decided to marry a man like him…

"Alright Mrs Wayne, ready ? And here we-oh not you too (Y/N) !"

"I'm sorry I'm sorry, I don't know what took over me, it was just a reflex too !"

You apologize, as you let go of the doctor's wrist…

Yeah, it was just a gut reaction to seeing a scary needle approaching your baby's thigh. In your line of um, nightly work, you came to be very wary, of syringes. You still remember vividly that time Tim got hit with one of Scarecrows’ needle, and how terrible this night had been...

"Ok ok, now is fine. Go. I'm ready. Go fast though, now. Now I’m not looking. Go. Go. Go."

Tears welling up in your eyes at the mere thought of this happening, you look away as you hold your son still (something he doesn't like as clearly shown by his little sound of protest, and as he starts to fuss about), and in one, two seconds…it's done.

And not a peep from your son.

He just stopped making any sound (he've always been rather vocal), his eyes went wide, and he made a face that looked like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to cry or not. Then there’s one more second, and Leslie had a soothing bandaid on his little leg, and you were holding him against your heart, and the pain was so fleeting and already gone, that he just gets over it quickly, feeling your love.

Calming down instantly, not noticing the tears in your eyes (thank god, or it’d be a sure way to make him weep too).

And so he doesn't cry. And everything is ok again.

“Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it ?”

“Actually, it was.”

You say, barely holding your tears in, your son cooing in your arms

“Um...I was talking to Thomas.”

Leslie answers, amused. And just like that, you both burst into laughter.

After a few minutes of this uncontrollable fit of giggles, you thank Leslie for her help, and leave the room, joining your husband who had been walking back and forth in the waiting room, nervous.

He comes immediately to you and Thomas, and as soon as the boy sees his dad he smiles widely and giggles. Bruce gives him a soft smile, before turning to you :

“How was it ?”

“For me ? Not great. For Tommy ? He didn’t even utter a sound. Our little guy is brave !”

You kiss your son on his forehead, and he giggles and coos even more. There’s a short silence, before Bruce says :

“I’m sorry...”

And then he takes you in his arms, sandwiching little Thomas who’s protesting a bit. Damn, his parents could be so clingy !

“It’s ok my Broosh, I already told you. It’s ok.”

You sort of knew since you stepped into the doctor’s room that you’d end up being the one having to hold your boy anyway.

You knew oh too well how squeamish he was whenever HE had to get a shot done (and oh who would’ve thought the big bad bat hated getting shots so much uh ? You were pretty sure he would rather getting actually shot than take a tiny needle in his arm any day of the week...Alfred always had to fight with him to inject anesthesia when treating him for wounds). It was actually sort of a requirement, that you’d be next to him to give him your hand when he absolutely had to get a shot.

So understandably so, he always skipped on his children’s vaccins. He just couldn’t bear to see anyone he cared for to get that very things he hated so much, it just made him feel ill.

And you’ve always been fine with this. Since that very first day when you took Dick there...But Bruce always felt bad.

Because whenever you’d get out of the doctor’s office, you’d have fresh tears in your eyes, because you were just too pure for this world (is what Damian would say).

Dick always took advantage of this. He was never really scared of shots, and thought they didn’t really hurt...But oh, oh he would always cry a river of crocodile tears just so he’d get extra cuddles and ice cream.

And then, that cheeky little bugger passed that knowledge of “when we get shots, or we get sick, the parents literally let us do WHATEVER we want !” to his little siblings (you were actually pretty sure your kids would pass secret ways to manipulate you and Bruce along to their younger siblings and..you were oddly fine with it. You loved those kids too much to care, really).

This thought reminded you of that very first time Dick fell sick, shortly after you and Bruce officially adopted him.

And how much you guys freaked out.

It was both a pleasant, and terrible memory.

And oh. Oh you already dreaded the day Thomas would have his first real fever...You still remembered how it happened, with all your other children.

“What is it ?” Bruce asks, always knowing when something was on your mind. And so you say : “Nothing bad, this just reminds me of when Dick got sick for the first time while with us...”

A light of recognition ignited in Bruce’s eyes, he knew exactly what you were talking about.

Bruce only had fond memories of when he was sick and his mom and dad would take care of him.

He thought they were the best, wether they’d hold a “barf-bucket” for him, or stay up all night because he was too feverish...

What he never realized though, is that having a sick child was actually absolutely terrifying ! Bruce often felt sick himself, when the kids were ill.....ah, but nothing ever beats those first time each of them got sick.

DICK

Dick wasn't as young as Thomas, when he first came into your life. None of them were. But he was still a cute little bean, your baby.

Eight years old, and oh so sweet and nice and cute and you could just squish his little cheeks all day (albeit from the few outburst of anger at times, but hey, he was but a child, every kid throw tantrum from times to times).

He had been living with you and Bruce in the Manor for the past six months, when you had your first fright, and realized that being a parent meant being worried about your kid's well being for the rest of your days

Dick was definitely a tiny kid when he came in your life. He was rather short, only having a growth spurt when he was around 14/15. Barbara Gordon used to tease him to no end about this, up until he finally caught up with her and ended up being taller.

But yes, his small stature for his age, maybe made you baby him even more than the others, sometimes.

Ah. That first time little Dick Grayson was sick at Wayne Manor.

You. Freaked. The. Fuck. OUT.

You and Bruce, both.

Coincidentally, Dick became ill ON THE ONLY FEW DAYS OFF ALFRED WOULD TAKE A YEAR !!

Every year, for a theater festival, Alfred would take off to his homeland, to England, in London to be exact, for but a few days.

The three of you were in the batcave. Bruce was getting ready to go out, while you were on the bat computer and Dick was training on the side, doing some acrobatics on the trampoline Bruce installed.

And then he came to you, pulling on your sleeve, and he was so pale...

“I don’t feel too well.”

He said, right before throwing up for a few way too long seconds, as tears welled up in his eyes...it was never nice to throw up, and once again, no matter how mature he acted, you were reminded that Dick was but an eight year old child.

But he wasn’t only crying because throwing up fucking sucked. He was also crying because he thought you were going to be mad at him.

You reassured him, as you cleaned his little face up, and Bruce (who looked quite green himself...later on, you’d discover than when his kids or you were sick, he felt sick too...quite a strong reaction, really) carried him upstairs.

You were frantically googling how to take care of a sick child, as Bruce stayed with Dick, holding a bark bucket to his face, and drawing soothing circles on his back with his hand.

The panic dumbed the both of you down. It seemed like you couldn’t think, as you tried to make Dick as comfortable as he could.

You could feel your anxiety blowing through the roof, and knew that Bruce was close to have a panic attack himself (he was prone to them, although you and Alfred were the only one who knew).

You didn’t know what was worst, the fact he was sick and had no idea what you were supposed to do, or how much Dick was sobbing and apologizing.

“Should we call Dr. Thompkins ?”

“I don’t know her number, Alfred is the one that calls usually...”

“Should we take him there then ?”

“I don’t know, Alfred is-”

This went on for a little bit, as Dick was throwing up and crying. Saying “sorry !” every two seconds. But...Instinctively, Bruce was trying to soothe him with those warm pats on his back. And you were caressing his hair, empathetic. And...

You decided to not go to the doctor today, Dick was sick, but not sick enough to take him to an emergency. And in Gotham ? Leslie was needed for a lot, especially in evenings like this.

“Alfred um, gives me flat soda when I have a stomach ache ?”

“On it !”

You say, bolting on your feet and running to the kitchen, taking a cola and opening it up. Meanwhile, Dick’s fit calmed down, and he seemed to instantly feel better as he probably threw everything he needed to up...

He seemed content, cuddling against Bruce as the man was softly patting his back in small circles, and using his other hand to hold his head delicately.

You and Bruce were definitely not experienced parents yet, and it showed.

It showed by those first few minutes of utter panic, as your child got suddenly sick. And it showed as how you instantly just thought of calling Alfred...

That day, you both realized though, that you couldn’t always rely on the butler when it came to raising your son. For situations exactly like that one.

Both you and Bruce were still young, and scared to make mistakes but..You had to try. And you had to keep a cool head. Your motherly instinct kicked in.

It was so odd, seeing the big bad bat, wearing his costume without the cowl on (he didn’t have time to take it off as he rushed upstairs with the boy in his arms), looking so worried...

Bruce was so pale, and you could see that in a way, he felt his son’s pain too...Which just made your head click, and take action.

“Ok, ok we can do this. Keep the barf bucket close, let’s wait for the soda to get flat, and um...let’s try to distract him. A movie, perhaps ?”

Dick nodded, and although he wasn’t throwing up anymore, he seemed too weak to stand up (or maybe he was faking, could be, honestly, with that one...doesn’t matter) so Bruce carried him again.

And it was a sight. Bruce was a tall man. And Dick was a very small kid.

It was cute. and in that moment...In that moment it felt like you both suddenly realized what it meant, to be a parent.

Bruce, holding his son in his arms, feeling the little one’s heartbeat and slowed breath as he was kinda nodding off...was this how his own father felt, when holding him ? It was nice. It was a surge of pure love, and knowing that he would die for that kid if he had to. Hell, he would burn the whole world, for that kid.

It was so odd. The situation wasn’t that crazy, Dick probably just ate something bad, and with the trampoline and all the jumping around...he got sick.

As a child, you had those rapid sick moments of having a bad stomach ache, which would turn into throwing up, to then feel better. Those sudden moments when your own parents would take care of you...

Ah. You hadn’t realized how much worry being a parent would bring. Bruce didn’t either. You guys adopting Dick felt like an obvious thing to do. Felt like it was meant to be...

But it wasn’t just yet, that you felt like a mom. Or a dad.

It took some time to build. Just like it took time for Dick to call you “mom” and “dad”. And in that moment, as your kid (yes, your kid) was sick, that was it...

Finally. Yes. That was it.

You were a mom.

Bruce was a dad.

Dick was your son.

Of course you panicked as he suddenly got sick. But now, it was in your hand to properly take care of him. And thus started the first ritual you’d ever make with one of your children.

Dick, when sick, liked chicken noodle soups. Made by you. He liked cuddles, up until he turned 12 or 13, then he acted as if he was too grown up for them. This eventually stopped when he turned 19, not long after Jason’s death...He regressed back to a little boy in some ways, and needed you. And Bruce.

You’d often drive to Bludhaven just to give him chicken noodle soup and sprite, when he got sick. Even as he grew older and older...He loved it. No one could ever beat his mom babying him, when he felt under the weather.

JASON

"Hey buddy, are you ok ?”

“Yes, yes I’m ok mom.”

He smiles at you sweetly, his eyes half-closed, and clearly still relishing in the fact that he can finally call someone “mom”. But this happiness he felt whenever he realized he was finally safe, and had a home, was oddly dimmed, this morning.

“Are you su-OH MY GOD !”

Your hand is burning, as you lay it on his forehead.

He’s burning up !

“Hey wow hey, kiddo, come here, you’re not feeling well are you ?”

But Jason shakes his head, and says :

“No I’m good. Just tired, but I’ll wake up soon.”

He smiled again, but it felt all wrong.

Of course, you didn’t take his words for it, even if you knew Jason wasn’t a liar. But the fact spoke for themselves, your kid was NOT alright. No matter what he was saying.

Turned out, you were definitely right. He really wasn’t alright.

In fact, Jason had...pneumonia. A bad case of it. That he probably caught when he was playing earlier that day, in the snow, with Bruce, staying out up until his lips were blue and he was soaking wet !! Bruce could just never resist him, and didn’t have the heart to say “no” when the kid kept asking on playing more...

He dearly regretted it. But you reassured him, this wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t.

You rushed to the hospital, Bruce holding a tiny little Jason wrapped tight in a few warm blankets. And the doctor confirmed you made the right call, taking him to the ER.

It wasn’t like with Dick, where it was obvious the boy had a mild sickness. No. Jason really looked bad, and ready to drop.

You and Bruce let once again your parental instincts kick in and...It was the right call.

When Jason woke up, he let out a string of apologies and you realized...You realized the kid was terrified you wouldn’t want him anymore if he bothered you too much. Was scared to death that you’d want to take him back where you found him, that you’d give up on him.

His real life father bolted at the first signs of troubles. His mother was a drug addict for whom he was never good enough to try and get cleaned up.

He was abandoned, over and over again along his short life and...he was absolutely terrified that if he was too much of a nuisance to you two, you and Bruce would leave him as well. That you wouldn’t bother.

And it broke your hearts.

Softly, when Jason finally got better, after a few days of utter nightmare for you and Bruce, you took him home. He still needed some rest, as he was a little sick, so you tucked him comfortably in his bed and finally, you told him :

“From now on, you promise me to tell us when you don’t feel ok ? Wether you think it’ll bother us or not. You will never bother us, little buddy, ok ?”

“Ok”, Jason said, unsure.

“What do I have to say or do, to convince you you’ll never be a nuisance to us ?”

The question took Jason by surprise, and he wasn’t quite sure of what to say. In his feverish state anyway, he had a hard time thinking. He heard himself say :

“Stay with me ?”

“Of course. Always little one, always.”

And as he softly drifted to sleep, feeling the cold and soothing towel you would wet over and over again to put on his forehead, he heard you hum a song from your childhood, that would become a song always sure to put him to sleep.

He was out, when Bruce said : “I’ll stay home tonight.” A shame, really. Because maybe, maybe if he heard that the Batman was going to skip patrol just to keep an eye on him...Then he’d know he would never bother him. Ever.

That he would forever hold a dear, prime place in his heart.

Jason woke up the next morning, and found you and Bruce asleep on the floor, right next to his bed. You were still holding a towel that had long since dried up, and one of Bruce’s hand was clutched tightly on your shirt.

The basin full of cold water laying on his bed side table was almost empty. Jason smiled.

He felt better after a few hours of good sleep, and slowly got out of the blankets, pulling them with him, to then lay down next to you two, throwing the thick quilt over all of you.

Later that day, Alfred found the three of you all cuddled up. He snatched a picture. Picture that was framed, amongst some of your favorite of your children, in your office. And in Bruce’s.

The way you sung him to sleep when he was sick...When he died, it was the last thing he thought about. When he saw the bomb would explose before Bruce could save him.

He thought of how soothing it was, to be taken care of by you. And your humming voice rung in his ears, as he realized he was going to die. Right there.

Oh. Oh he wished he could be a little sick eight years old again, forget all his worries, and just fall asleep with the sound of your voice in his ears, while his dad would hold the both of you in his arms...

TIM

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, go back to bed this instant !”

Tim was the most difficult one, when he had a fever. He was a bit of a workaholic (like father like son ?), and always wanted to help. He hated being too sick because then he felt useless.

Your boy just wanted so much to be there for everyone, that he often forgot himself in the process and...yes.

His first real fever/sickness was punctuated by you constantly trying to get him back into bed.

You almost never even knew Tim was sick !

The boy was so used to taking care of himself, that he tried to handle everything on his own. He even took an appointment to the doctor himself ! But then, before having the chance to go there, he passed out in school, which resulted in a call from his principal that ended in Bruce almost having a heart attack.

You understood him of course. It wasn’t really a nice feeling to be called out during a business meeting to have someone tell you your son passed out in school !

It was just a little flu, but the fever and lack of sleep got the best of him.

Bruce didn’t even tell anyone where he was going, as he rushed to the school. You met him there, as he was walking out of the building, with a little sleepy Tim in his arms.

“I can walk, I swear I can walk.”

The boy was saying, yet his head was on his dad’s shoulder, and the up and down bobble of Bruce’s walk was clearly putting him to sleep.

Your husband settled your son in the car, and drove home.

“He was trying to convince me he could finish his school day, and that he had a group work today and didn’t want to let his friends down...”

“Sounds like Tim alright...”

You said, looking back at his sleeping form in the back seat.

Bruce nods, but you could see something was on his mind. You always knew, when something was on his mind. Brushing a few fingers on his cheeks, you ask :

“What is it, my Bruce ?”

His eyes are on the road, of course. But he flicks them quickly to you, and he knows. He knows he can’t lie to you, or get away with telling you half-truth.

You’ll know, if he’s not really telling you what has been worrying him. He takes a deep breath and, with a small voice says :

“Is this...my fault ?”

At first, you don’t understand, and you say :

“I’m pretty sure it’s because that boy never wears a damn sweater, and we’re in Gotham in the middle of Winter haha.”

But then...Then you realize what he means.

He’s talking about the fact that Tim always seem to overcompensate for something. Always seem to want to be there for everyone, forgetting sometimes he’s just a ten years old boy.

Tim was the only one out of his siblings that became Robin for no personal reason, but just because he loved Batman and wanted to help him. Just because he wanted to help people.

He didn’t have a tragic backstory (although he unfortunately got one later on...), he didn’t have a reason to become Robin, other than his good nature and really wanting to help...

And Bruce let him. Allowed him to do this. Even after what happened to Jason, he let Tim sneak in your life and become Robin.

You’d argue that Tim didn’t leave you guys much of a choice, and sort of had a “well I’m gonna help you no matter what, deal with it” sort of attitude. But you understood your husband’s worries.

He was afraid that he was the one that made him that way. That it was because of him, that Tim worked his health off.

“Oh, Bruce, my Heart...No. No it’s not your fault. It’s just how this amazing little boy is wired. I actually think that thanks to you, he’s more focused and taken care of. The gods can only imagine what Tim Drake would’ve done if he hadn’t been trained by Batman himself...If you said “no” to him pestering you about becoming your Robin, he would’ve taken it upon himself to go out there anyway. And then...I can only imagine what would’ve happened. So no. No it’s not your fault. It’s just...how he is. He reminds me of you a lot, actually. And I’m so, so glad he managed to convince you...Couldn’t imagine my life without that little one in it. Even if he does give me grief often, overworking like that. But it’s not your fault. It’s not. On the contrary.”

It took you a while, to convince Bruce he didn’t create Tim the way he sort-of created Dick and Jason. But you managed to, as you always did. You could be very convincing. Plus, the boy helped. It was clear his dedication came from himself mainly, that he was just born this way.

Too clever and smart for his own good, destined to be a Robin...and maybe a Batman, one day ?

Yes. Tim was the only one that wasn’t in it for himself. For personal reasons. He just wanted to help...

But after that first time he got sick, he understood that sometimes, it was ok to rely on you or his die. That in fact, he would gladly do so !

That day, Bruce carried him to his bed, even as the boy protested he was alright. Finally, you’ve had enough and ended up sort of lecturing him...gently.

“You need to rest, sometimes, ok ? If it’s too much, if you’re too tired, physically AND mentally, you need to take a few steps back...and let others take care of things, and of you. Ok ?”

“But-”

“No buts Timmy. It’s important. If something bad happens to you because you’ve been ignoring your own body, your own self...What will happen to those you want to help ? In order to continue what you’re doing, you need to take some pauses. Like right now. You are sick. You passed out in school. So...It’s gatorade and crackers time.”

Gatorade and crackers.

Tim’s favorite drinks and food.

Gatorade and crackers.

Two things that were rarely found in Wayne Manor. You always tried to give healthy balanced meals to your kids. Especially to Tim, who had the opposite of a balanced diet when he came into your lives (the fact he often had to take care of himself as his parents were too busy meant he often chose his own food...and of course he’d rather have ice cream than broccolis).

But the fact that you were now giving him Gatorade and crackers meant...Meant that Dick was right. When they were sick, you would do anything to make them comfortable.

Coincidentally though, Gatorade and saltines helped out, when one was sick.

On that first time he became sick after starting to live with you, Tim found that it was ok, to relax sometimes. That he didn’t have to waste his life away 24/7 for others, and that he could enjoy some down time.

It only happened when he was sick, to your great dismal. You constantly tried to convince him to take a break (just like you did with Bruce...but although it worked with your husband, especially as he got older, Tim was just very stubborn, and wanted to help too damn much). You even had to trick him into it often.

So although you hated seeing your kids in any kind of pain, you were almost glad when Tim got sick. Because it meant he would really take care of himself. Or rather, letting you take care of him.

That first time he got sick, he ended up leaving his bed...only to go cuddle up in yours and Bruce’s, and enjoy some down time. And learn that, it was ok, to take care of himself.

Hell. You’d hammer this fact in his head if you had to.

Gatorade and crackers, while watching movies in yours and Bruce’s big bed, was why Tim thought that in the end, being sick wasn’t too bad.

Extra points if you two were in the bed with him, snuggled up all nice, safe and warm.

CASSANDRA

Cassandra didn’t like TV, when she was sick. Instead, she liked you reading her stories better. And you’d read to her all day, if need be. Switching from time to time with your husband.

She had trouble sleeping, even when sick and weak. Listening to your voices telling her all those wonderful stories was soothing beyond measure.

The first time she fell sick while at Wayne Manor though, her first reflex was to go hide. Because when she used to be sick with the man who called himself her “father”, with David Cain (that scum), he used to get so mad at her.

As if it was her fault, she became sick.

So she’d run away. Curl into a ball. Wait for it to pass. And then face him, healthy again. It was easier to confront him when she was ok...So she’d rather run away and face the consequences, rather than stay around him while sick.

And so, her first instinct was to go hide.

She went to the attic, and did what she used to do.

Curled up in a ball, in front of the round window. And wait. Alone.

It’s Bruce, who found her. He was casually checking the GPS he put on his children. They still thought they got rid of it, the sweet kids...but as if he’d only implant one. He knew it wasn’t really ethical, but after what happened to Jason, he wasn’t willing to take any chances.

During the day, he would check a few times, and usually during boring office meeting, to see where they were. That day, he saw Cass in the Manor’s attic, and didn’t think much of it. Cass was a curious one, who took it upon herself to explore everything in the house.

But when he came home, and she was still there, his guts told him something was wrong...He rushed to the attic, and found her.

And his heart stopped, when he saw her laid on the floor, curled up into a ball, and softly moaning because she had a bad fever.

She wasn’t asleep, even in this state she fought sleep, afraid to have nightmares (and while having a fever, she couldn’t just wake up to escape them...).

Bruce carried her out of the attic, holding her tight in his arms, his heart bleeding as he realized why she isolated herself while she needed help.

People often misjudged Bruce on that matter. Saw him as a cold harsh man. But oh; oh if it was touching his children or you...He would feel so much. Too much, even. He just loved you all to death.

When he brought her downstairs, and you saw her, you immediately entered “mom mode” and fussed over her, getting everything you needed to make her comfortable...but as it turned out, all she wanted was to feel yours and Bruce’s presence.

To hear your voice, and feel you were there.

And so without thinking, you picked up a book and started to read it to her. And you could feel her relax, let her guard down. A rare occasion she would truly let herself be chill.

The first time Cass got sick while living under your roof, her first instinct was to hide and lick her wounds all by herself. It was to lie on the floor and hope it would pass fast. It was-

The second time she felt under the weather, she immediately went to you. It was early in the morning. And it’s only thanks to Bruce’s amazing reflexes that Cass didn’t throw up all over you two, as he pulled you away from her just in time...To then take care of changing the sheets, while you held your daughter’s hair as she threw up in the master’s bathroom’s toilet.

And then Bruce went downstairs to take a “barf-bowl”, the one actually, that her mom used to take for him...ah. He always used that one for all the kids. Call it nostalgia.

The second time Cass got sick while under your care, she didn’t hide. She wasn’t dreading it, even as she got even sicker than the first time. No.

No because now, she knew she’d always find you so you could take care of her. Ah, and Dick, Jason and Tim gave her many tricks to fake being sick and have you all for herself...

DUKE

Duke was older than any of your kids were when he started to live at the Manor. He was already in his teens. He wasn't a tiny bean like the rest of them, when he came in your family...

And yet. Yet the first time he fell sick, you babied the hell out of him.

So what if he was sixteen ? Doesn’t mean he couldn’t have all the care a child should have when he wasn’t feeling well.

And so you were ready to take care of him, when Alfred came to you this morning to tell you “Master Duke” wasn’t feeling well.

However, when you got to his room and indeed saw he was feverish, he refused to talk to you and just wanted to be alone.

And then it hits you.

Duke was sixteen.

He wasn’t a lost little eight years old boy who had just lost his parents, or never even had parents. He wasn’t a child in dear need of love and cuddles.

He was sixteen.

And he wanted HIS mom.

What happened to his parents was too fresh.

And they weren’t dead...In a way, seeing them lose their mind with no chance of ever getting better was worst.

Duke was sixteen.

And there, sick, all he wanted was to have his mom’s care again.

Yes. Duke’s case was different than all your other children. Because his parents were still there. Because he was older. Because everything was so fresh, at the moment.

In time, in the coming years, he would come to feel just like his siblings did. But right there, just mere few weeks after he moved to the manor, and mere few days after Bruce helped him find his parents...

Duke was homesick.

He missed his dad. But he missed his mom even more. Probably for the same reason that your kids loved to have you around so much, when they were sick...

There was no doubt in your mind that Duke’s mom was amazing at taking care of him when he felt ill. She probably had her own tricks, to make him feel better. Tricks that you did not know...And so you asked.

You simply asked.

Because you wanted to make him feel better. You wanted to be there for him, even if right now, he didn’t want you around.

If he truly wanted to be left alone, you’d leave some medicine and leave him be. But your guts were telling you he was just sad, and the sad was translated into him pretending he wanted to be alone.

Your guts were right.

Duke wanted his mom. Yes. But he also didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts, right now...He just didn’t want to hurt your feelings. He knew how motherly you could be. He didn’t want to project his mother on you. He-

“What do you need ?”

You asked, and the answer came to his mind instantly. He spoke before even realizing he was doing it :

“My mom used to make a perfect drink of warm water, honey, ginger and lemon.”

And as you tried to recreate his mom’s drink, never quite getting the measurements right (you could see on his face it wasn’t like his mother’s), Duke slowly felt better.

Because...Because yes. He missed his mom. And the way she took care of him. Especially on sick days. But...It wasn't everywhere that one could find someone who cared so much, that they were willing to spend their entire day trying to get a drink right, right ?

And when Bruce came home, and asked him if he was “alright champ ?”, Duke realized one thing...

Yes. He wanted his parents. Yes, he missed them like hell. Yes, his sick days would never be the same...

But he wasn’t alone. As Bruce joined in trying to make the perfect drink of “warm water, honey, ginger and lemon”, Duke came to the realization that his situation wasn’t as desperate as he thought, this morning, when he woke up feeling under the weather, and without his mom to take care of him.

Because you were still there. And were planning on staying there for a very long time. Of course, you could never replace his mom. Just like you never replaced Dick’s, or Damian’s...You just, became another mom to them.

And Duke...That first day of being sick in Wayne Manor ? He felt like he was finally willing to let you become his second mom. To let Bruce become a father figure. To have this found family, in this tough times...

Sick days were never the same than when he was a little kid and still had his parents around.

Duke was sixteen. Growing up wasn’t easy, especially after what he went through. And sick days would never be the same...But it didn’t mean they wouldn’t be nice, as he slowly let you and Bruce, and his newfound siblings, take care of him.

Yes. To have this found family in this tough times was quite a joy.

DAMIAN

To the surprise of many, Damian actually didn’t resist too much being taken care of when he first got sick under your roof.

Damian actually loved being sick, because it meant snuggles time with you, safe and warm under a blanket on the couch, watching his favorite movies. It meant your soothing fingers running in his hair, making him feel peaceful and relaxed.

It also meant that he’d have you all for himself.

With five siblings (with a sixth one on the way), it wasn’t always the easiest thing ever, to get his mom only for himself. Yes. He loved to be sick, and babied by you.

The first time he got a bad fever, a few months after he arrived at the Manor, he dreaded falling ill because...

Well. Because he was raised in the League of Assassins. And being sick, no matter how much, was not considered reason enough to not train. To not do what his grandfather told him to do.

He used to work through the sickness. Even if he felt like passing out (and he did, a few times, which earned him hours from his sleeping time taken away...).

So Damian hated being sick.

Until. Until he became ill for the first time when living with you.

By that time, you and Bruce had learned how to manage a sick child. And although Bruce still felt physically ill too whenever his children were, he managed nowadays to be somewhat ok and take care of them without wincing.

It happened not long after Damian started to call you “mom”. He fell asleep while you guys were watching a movie and...it’s what instantly told you something was wrong.

No matter how bad a movie would be, Damian would NEVER fall asleep in the middle of it.

Ah, and sure enough, as you checked his temperature you realized he had a bad fever. And so you carried him to his room, tucking him into bed.

He woke up as you were doing that, and looked at you, utterly surprised. What was going on ?

“Get some rest buddy, you’ll feel better soon.”

You said, smiling. And at first, Damian didn’t understand. He had been so conditioned in ignoring his own well being, that he didn't realize something was wrong with him. But then, you laid a hand on his forehead, and said :

“Ah it doesn’t seem like it’s such a big sickness, I’ll go get you some medicinal tea and...What do you want to eat ? If you’re hungry ? Maybe you’re not, sometimes when I’m sick I just don’t wanna eat anything.”

Sick ? Was he...Sick ? Yes. He was. But it was so mild, that he didn’t even think he needed to rest. Or...Didn’t he ? He was just so used to still work even when sick.

“What-What about school ?”

He asked, and he was surprised his voice sounded so weak and tired. Was he always feeling like that when sick ? Yes. But...Something was different.

And then it hit him.

“I think it’s ok if you skip a few days’ buddy.”

The difference was that, when he was sick while amongst the League of Assassins, he was always terrified that his grandfather got tired of him and send him hitmen (it happened a lot before, while he was sleeping for example, and it always happened to test him, test if he was ready, and willing to kill and ask questions after). That he didn’t find him useful enough.

While here, with you, he felt safe. He felt loved. He felt warm.

And so his body wasn’t in a “fight or flight” state. He was just...sick. As any normal kid would be.

When with the Al’Ghul, he somehow managed to convince himself to keep going, to work through the pain. And oh, it’s wonders, what the brain can do when you really want to.

But here. Here he didn’t have to act tough. To keep walking or he’d end up dead. Here. Here he was safe. And loved.

So he felt the sickness, the fever. He felt it’s true effect.

“What do sick people eat ?”

He asked, and at first you didn’t think much of it. You started to tell him Dick loved chicken noodle soup while Tim preferred saltines. Cass would never eat much, neither would Jason, but they’d always say yes to some flat sodas.

He seemed unsure of what he wanted, so you asked him a simple question :

“What do you usually eat, when you’re sick ?”

It was such an innocent question. But it made him almost cry.

Usually ?

Usually...

“Well...”

He hesitates, and you sense there’s more to things than you originally thought. Finally, after looking at your encouraging smile, he says :

“When I was sick before, I still had to train. And then they’d tell me I’m weak.”

In one sentence, you understand everything. And you could punch yourself for ever thinking that he got taken care of when sick. And then the next second, you hold him tight in your arms, and once again, Damian is surprised.

But pleased. He had been touched starve most of his life, this was nice.

“My poor baby...”

He didn’t even complain you called him a baby, and let you hug him. And then...Then you spend time with him, trying to find the perfect ritual to make him feel better while he was sick.

You had such rituals with everyone. Formed on the day they first got sick. Damian needed his own thing too...

Thus was created the “couch nest”.

It involved covering the living room’s couch with at LEAST one quilt, then Damian would bring the pillows (and maybe some stuffs animals, or even real ones...Titus often sneaked in) from his bed, and you would tuck him in with one or two more quilts.

He would then spend the rest of the time watching TV and movies with you. Or with his siblings. Or his dad.

And it was so comforting, to be wrapped up like that. Almost like laying in a hug. It made him feel like he was perpetually held by you.

Damian used to hate being sick. Because he hated being weak.

But this changed. Just like he changed. Thanks to his family. Thanks to you.

Now, just like Tim, he almost loved, being sick...

************

“This sort of reminds me of that time Dick got his first fever...”

You were thinking about all those terrible, yet sweet days, of your children being sick, as you walked up the stairs to your house, a hand tightly weaved around your husband’s.

Bruce was holding a sleeping Thomas in one of his arm (the boy was so small he could even fit in one of his hand, really), and felt relaxed. Here. With his son, and his wife, the love of his life. And with the knowledge than when you’d push the door to your house open you’d-

“Father ! Mom ! How is he !?”

Both you and Bruce quickly put a finger on your lips, and Damian throws his hands on his mouth, regretting his scream. But he was just so worried.

He couldn’t come with you to the doctor’s office as he had school (plus you were pretty sure he would’ve been 100 times worst than Bruce, trying to stop Leslie by any means necessary), and had been thinking about his little brother’s first shot all day.

Damian, just like his dad, wasn’t very fond of shots. He hated that his brother (wether the youngest one, or one of the older one, really) had to go through this.

It was always silly to you, how both Bruce and Damian, who’ve been through much worst than small little shots, hated those so much...Silly, and very cute.

Damian was looking critically at his brother, checking him silently for any signs of distress, for any “mistakes” Doctor Thompkins would’ve done, and seemed satisfied that the boy was fast asleep in his dad’s arm.

And Bruce...Bruce was smiling.

He felt so relaxed. And happy.

When you pushed that door, it opened on Damian rushing to the two of you, worried about his little brother. But it also opened on Alfred, who baked some comforting food, and brewed some tea for you, knowing how hard on you this sort of things could be (and yet how you insisted to take your kids to the doctor yourself, and not let Alfred do it, because you wanted to be there for them).

It opened on Cass smiling, and ruffling Damian’s hair as to reassure him.

It opened on Tim, who took a small break from his college study to come down and spend some times with his siblings, ready to relax in front of a movie (it was family movie night !).

It opened on Duke, who’s hands were full of DVDs, and who was excited to try to convince y’all to watch “Ninja and Pirates 6″, or something of the like.

It opened on Jason, who was smiling in such a way that no one would ever know all the things he went through. And it made Bruce feel all nice and warm inside...even as the little shit mimicked him having to take a shot. Squirming and looking as if he was about to faint. And ah, he hated to admit it, but his boy was impersonating him really well.

And it opened on Dick. His first kid. The one that, one day when getting sick, was who made Bruce realize what it truly meant to be a dad. The one who knew the best how much he hated seeing any of his children sick, or getting shots.

On Dick, who was laughing really hard at Jason’s impersonation, and giving him feedbacks about what to improve to make it even better.

The door opened on his family.

And as the ruckus surrounding him woke Thomas, as Damian yelled at Jason and Dick for being so loud, and as Bruce’s eyes fell on you, while you looked at your little tribe with love in your eyes...

Bruce felt relaxed. And so, so, oh so happy.

________________________________________________

This is yet another one of those stories I’ve been posting a lot lately, that do not take me very long to write and in which I don’t put that much effort, but that I really enjoy writing nonetheless ^^. And I hope you enjoyed reading it :), I’m nervous actually this isn’t up to your standards hahaha...Yes, hope you still liked it. Don’t hesitate to leave a little feedback etc etc ^^. Thanks in advance !

See you soon with something much longer and on which I spend a lot of time working ;).

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ckneal · 3 years

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So, there’s this one angel story in the back of my head that I know I wont write. I wont write it, because it’s utter nonsense, with very little regard for the canonical timeline of Supernatural, and a willfully blurry view on what is and is not “in character.” It’s fluff. It’s all fluff, in the form of a bunch of smaller stories that gradually weave together, following the Love, Actually style of storytelling, but instead of problematic love stories, it’s all about angels playing hooky from Heaven after the Fall.

(Seriously, there is no substance here, I swear.)

Stories include Abner, living out the first half of the movie Family Man, struggling to figure out how to be a good father and house husband after he steps into the life of the raging alcoholic who agreed to be his vessel. There’s also a very minor story about Esther (not to be confused with Hester, who is not in this story because she never deserted her post in Heaven) learning to play the part of a little girl and navigating schoolyard politics, but kids can be mean and Esther learns the hard way that Michael’s approach to asserting dominance in Heaven does not translate well. There’s also Daniel and Adina, who both settle into vessels in the same movie theater where a romantic comedy is playing, and fall into a very innocent, play-acting sort of love after they leave the theatre—like little kids pretending to be in love, recreating the scenes from the movie, but at the same time not really understanding it. Balthazar, Gabriel, and Anael each trying to roll with the luxurious high roller life style, and awkwardly running into each other at VIP poker games, exclusive spas and clubs, and the occasional orgy that they promptly leave IMMEDATELY after running into a sibling (don’t give me weird looks, Balthazar and Gabriel canonically include that sort of thing in their definition of luxury, and the whole thing of their story is their siblings keep cramping their style). Tyrus is in there bowling, somewhere. Benjamin’s playing arcade games with his wife. And then there’s Thaddeus, my pet favorite minor angel character, realizing what’s happening as he’s falling with all the other faithful angels during the Fall and seizing the opportunity to abandon his life as a guard and torturer, settling into a pop star for his vessel—initially for the sake of the cushy lifestyle, but then gradually looking back, before the garden and Lucifer, before everyone was assigned a job in Heaven, like it or not, and the options were to adapt or to be smote, and remembering that back then, he could sing.

And of course, Michael and Adam get a story too—in which Michael lowkey gets into a pissing contest with death, as he and Adam travel the world, hitting up hospital after hospital to heal people. Because the first thing Adam wanted to do after getting out of the cage (okay, second thing—burgers came first) was go to the nearest medical center and start healing people left and right. And at first, they’re having a great time. Adam steals a white jacket he finds in the breakroom somewhere, and anytime someone says he looks a little young to be a doctor (Adam still looking nineteen years old, because I say so), Michael wipes the poor sap’s mind. But eventually—sometime after they’ve cleared out the children’s ward, the cancer ward, the cardiac ward—Billie shows up, sniping at them that they can’t just go around healing people who are destined to die, because there is an order to life and death that cannot be shoved aside. And Billie tries to make a show of it, as Terra did with Dean, by having several people who Adam had healed over the course of the day inadvertently cause several massive accidents. The news suddenly comes pouring out of the television, channels flipping as newscasters talk about tragedies occurring in several different parts of the city they’re currently in. The sound of approaching ambulance sirens fills the air, as in the hospital hallway, doctors and nurses begin hurrying to receive a rush of ER patients.

Adam’s horrified.

Michael does not take kindly to this. He snaps his fingers and makes it so that the carnage has never happened. Because he is the archangel Michael, only two steps away from being a god, and if he says that all of these people are going to live, then they are going to live, and he WILL NOT be intimidated, especially by an amateur reaper whose only qualification for her position was dying at the right time.

Billie in turn lands Michael with a cold stare, and points out that the order to life and death is beyond even God’s authority, let alone daddy’s blunt, sniveling instrument.

As Michael’s eyes start to glow, Adam steps in and says, “So, to be clear, you want us to stop healing people on the verge of death? We can do that.”

After Billie leaves, Michael is outraged, but Adam says, “No, Michael, THINK about it.”

We then cut to other stories, where newscasts in the background reveal that ailments that are not IMMIEDATELY fatal (AIDs, diabetes, Alzheimer’s, etc.) are mysteriously disappearing overnight, worldwide.

Billie is not amused, and tells her reapers to be on the lookout for an archangel at every major hospital in the world.

Cut to Michael throwing open the door of the bunker, muttering aloud to Adam that he’s going to do it, he’s going to bind Death, just like Lucifer did—how hard can it be? Sam and Dean see him as he goes stomping off toward the cabinet where they keep all of their magical dry goods, but Michael snaps his fingers and the two of them are abruptly half drunk in Dean’s man cave, sitting in front of Dean’s flat screen TV, watching some campy monster movie, because that’s lowkey what Michael and Adam assume they do all day.

As they’re raiding Sam and Dean’s supplies though, Adam says, “Wait, I have an idea.”

Cut to Abner looking up while pushing his vessel’s daughter in a park swing, and literally seeing Michael and Adam chasing an ambulance, so they can technically heal the person inside before reaching the hospital.

Yes, I’m aware that Abner was dead by the time Michael and Adam got out of the cage. But see, this story? This story is like when someone gifts you a goldfish unexpectedly, and you put it in a bowl, checking in to feed it a couple times a day, lowkey expecting it to die. But it doesn’t die, it gets bigger. And you’re not a cruel person, so you put it in a bigger tank, but it just gets bigger again, and you don’t really know what’s going on, but you know, you just kind of keep checking in, meeting the minimum requirements but not really getting in there as a guiding force because it’s a goldfish and it’s surely going to die any minute now—but then you look over and there’s giant tank taking up your living room, and you’re thawing out bloodworms twice a day, and looking into tankmates to keep Charles company, and realize that “Oh wow, I guess this is a thing now.”

In short, the story says we’re ignoring the timeline, and it’s calling the shots. I’m just keeping the tank clean.

The angels all eventually wind up running into each other. Abner and Esther happen upon one another in a park, where Esther is morosely realizing that she is terrible at being a human child but she does not want to go home to Heaven, and it just happens to be the same park where Abner goes with his “little nibblet” once a day to let her toddle around the playground while he chats with nannies and other house parents. Anael, Adina, and Daniel meet up when the latter two’s game has reached the point where they’ve decided to get married, and they apparently need to buy something new—preferably blue—as per this very important rhyme someone told them about. Esther and Gabriel run into each other in an ice cream parlor. Thaddeus gets recognized while doing an interview on TV that everyone sees. And, while out joyriding in a Lamborghini, on their way to meet up with the growing community of angels who decided to opt out of their responsibility to Heaven and their father’s legacy, Balthazar, Gabriel, and Anael are all startled to see Michael land on an ambulance stopped next to them at a red light.

Balthazar and Anael are both terrified, as if they’ve just been busted by a parent, because Michael, of course, is the guy who enforces the rules, and isn’t he supposed to be in Hell? They both shoot Gabriel looks as if to say ‘what the hell are you doing’ when Gabriel, watching as Michael climbs down and matter-of-factly wrenches the ambulance doors open, calls out, “Hey, Mike! Is that you?”

Michael looks over, freezes for a second—not prepared to be suddenly thrust into a social situation in the middle of his self-imposed mission to spite death—then his eyes flash and Adam takes over. “Oh hey, you’re Michael’s family? What a small world! I’m Adam, I’ve heard so much about you. Wait, hang on—”

The light starts to turn green, but Adam snaps his fingers and it promptly reverts to red.

Three jaws drop in the luxury car, and they don’t even hear Adam politely explain that he and Michael are in the middle of something, as he ducks into the ambulance, because Michael’s evidently letting a tiny human use his powers like it’s nothing, and what does that mean?

“Sweet dad in the unknown, Michael’s shagging a human. . .”

“Nooo!”

“HOW?”

“Hey, kid, you like weddings?”

At some point in the story, all the MIA angels are together, and Benjamin or someone comes running in saying, “Quick, they’re coming! Everyone hide!”

And everyone scatters, except for Michael, who stands in place, saying, “Gabriel, we’re archangels, two of the most powerful beings in existence. Why would we—”

And then Gabriel picks Adam up like a sack of potatoes and sprints off, calling back, “Trust me, you do NOT want to get involved with them!”

Being a projection, Michael is obligated to follow.

Team Free Will then walks by, looking constipated from whatever Big Awful Thing is currently threatening to destroy the world.

The story, of course, culminates in the wedding of Adina and Daniel, who still don’t quite understand what marriage is beyond promising to love each forever, which of course they will, after all, they are the very best of friends—which is about the same concept that most of the other angels present have. Adam is the first one to actually approach the big awkward question, upon finding out who the bride and groom are.

“Wait, aren’t they brother and sister?”

To which Serafina’s Adam, (who is of course there since Serafina was the original angel to play hooky) whose sons married his daughters, and all the angels, who do not understand what that has to do with anything, all cock their heads in unison and respond with, “So?”

Adam struggles to find words, looking into so many innocent faces. Then Benjamin’s wife puts a hand on his shoulder, whispering, “Shhh, let them have their fun.”

Benjamin’s wife and the two Adams wind up sitting at the venue’s bar, where they order nachos from a very confused bar tender, and watch as the angels go about setting up a wedding. But given that most angels haven’t been on earth regularly in roughly two thousand years, none of them have a clear grasp of what a human wedding entails.

“I heard it’s traditional for the father to give away the bride.”

“I think they’re supposed to kiss over bread.”

“Do humans still slaughter cows at these things?”

“I’m pretty sure someone is supposed to break a glass—”

Several angels promptly throw glassware on the floor.

At no point do the angels ask the humans for advice.

Occasionally, Gabriel knowingly throws out obscure details to keep the confusion going.

“You know, the groom needs to stand with the right arm to the aisle in case a sword fight breaks out.”

“Right! . . .How do we know which one’s the groom?”

At the bar, Adam open’s his mouth to say something, but the original Adam shushes him.

“No no, son, let them get there.”

The angels agree that being the better fighter, Adina should be the groom.

They’re nearly ready to start when Michael suddenly doubles over with his hand over his mouth. It coincides with the sound of Adam pounding the bar top, having just eaten a Carolina Reaper pepper on dare. Michael’s eyes quickly flash silver-blue as he straightens, and both he and Adam are abruptly fine—even if their eyes are still watering somewhat. But a different sort of damage has already been done, as Anael, Balthazar, and Gabriel all abruptly turn toward the triad of humans, having been reminded that the Michael walking around with them is actually a projection. In actuality, Michael is anchored to the human ex-college student sitting at the bar.

All three of them rush toward Adam, but Serafina gets there first, asking Adam if he’s ever tried mushroom tea.

Balthazar gets there next.

“Adam, was it? We didn’t get to talk in the car, let’s fix that. Are you over twenty-one? You know what, this is a family affair, don’t worry—CAN I GET TWO SHOTS OF DON JULIO OVER HERE?”

From that point on, any time Adam turns around, there’s one of Michael’s siblings, wanting to get to know him—by consuming some sort of beverage. Because Adam and Michael are sharing body—and that means they share a liver too. A bet ensues as to how much it will take to get God’s alleged favorite wasted.

Gabriel’s actually one of the first out, having been convinced that Michael would be a lightweight. Little does he suspect that Benjamin and his wife caught onto what was happening soon after Adam was fed his third long island iced tea and second jager bomb, and began quietly cleansing the alcohol from his system through casual shoulder pats and high fives.

Adam does not know what to make of any of this, but it’s Michael’s family and he wants to make a good impression, so he just goes with it.

Thaddeus, of course, is in charge of music, Gabriel and Esther consume the majority of the cake, and Michael catches the bouquet (he may have cheated after finding out what the bouquet toss is for).

#my thoughts #lowkey might be putting this idea out so it'll leave me alone #midam #supernatural angels #the divine shurley family

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issaxcharlie · 4 years

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If you could only know I never let you go

Pairing: Ghost! Luke x Ghost! Fem reader

Summary: Y/N lost her life the same day as her best friends and her boyfriend, wandering for 25 years finally finds them again doing the concert they never had a chance to do, just to find out they are dying all over again and she just doesn't know how to react.

She couldn't believe what she was seeing. 25 years wandering around this city, looking for him. And now here it was, shining on stage just like the last time she saw him. Flashbacks from that last night flooding her head.

She couldn't help feeling strange seeing the way the love of her life was looking at someone else, but on the other hand, seeing the three of them again, happy and doing what they love the most in the world, made her feel blissful.

Their number ended and her best friends disappeared from the stage. At that moment the young ghost decided that her best move would be to follow the beautiful singer who accompanied them, Julie.

She couldn't believe it when she saw the place they came to. For years she visited this garage day after day hoping to meet her beloved band, but after 10 years she decided to give up. Y/N didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the irony of the situation, but as soon as she appeared in the studio she decided that the best option would be crying.

The three of them lying on the ground, suffering, in so much pain, without strength. Julie crying at their side begging them to do something about it.

“You dorks can't even stay ghosts? You are definitely a lost case."

Julie turns to see her surprised, her face is full of tears and she squeezes Luke's hand hard as she strokes Reggie's hair. Reggie and Alex try to turn their heads towards their friend's voice, while Luke keeps her eyes closed.

"I have Y/N’s voice in my head just like the first time we died, I guess it’s time to say goodbye, boys."

“You are not dying on me again Luke Patterson, not freaking way.” Luke snaps his eyes open when he hears her voice for the second time and she teleports to his side.

“This is actually happening?” He asks while using the little strength he has left to caress her cheek.

"That's the same thing I thought when I heard you guys singing pop-rock." The three ghosts let out a painful laugh, touching their chest in a gesture of pain, with the exception of the guitarist who endured it so as not to stop touching the woman in front of him.

"What a pleasure to know that even after death and that your best friends and your boyfriend are about to disappear you continue to maintain your horrible sense of humor." Alex comments with a slight smile.

“You are not going to disappear. I’ve been waiting for you for 25 years, I’m getting the feeling that you are running away from me." All three know that joking is a defense mechanism that she activates when she's scared. Y/N tries to be calm but she’s shaking and tears are falling one after another from her face.

“I'm so happy that I got to see you one last time, firecracker." She reaches him desperately trying to hold on to the love of her life, and he uses the strenght he has left to hug her one last time.

But the unexpected hits them again, and a bright yellow light envelops him as he regains his strength. The others quickly approach and the five form a messy hug. When they break the hug the three ghosts look much stronger and in better condition, even smiling between tears.

"I leave you alone for 25 years and you manage to find a way to lose your soul forever, I will never underestimate your power to get into trouble again."

"I thought we had shown you how capable we are in that department, Y/N." Reggie replies while hugging his friend.

"Julie, Y/N is our best friend, composer of half the songs and Luke's personal headache."

"Hey! I thought that were you guys! But it’s a pleasure to meet you, Julie."

The singer hugs the new ghost and smiles, looking relieved to have her friends better thanks to her.

“Aren’t you gonna say something?” Y/N asks Luke, that only looks at her in silence.

“You look just like I remember you. how much time passed from our death to yours?” he manages to ask almost in a whisper, as if hoping she wouldn't hear him to not hear the sad answer.

“Same night. Let's say driving after you found out your boyfriend and friends died is a terrible idea.”

“Oh god, Y/N.” Alex hugs her and looks at his friends in silence.

“I thought you were somewhere in this city with a house, a husband, even children. It seems impossible that you are in front of me right now."

“What can I say? Lifers are no longer my type, and none of the rockstar ghosts I ran into rock sleeveless shirts like you.”

He chuckles while blushing, finally coming to terms with the idea that his person was actually in front of him, looking just as precious as 25 years ago, even though for him it had only been a few weeks since he last saw her.

All these time he had been blocking his memories of the young composer, but now that she was next to him he had the luxury of remembering one.

1995

"Can you explain why you have been running away from me? I thought we were stronger than this, if there is something that bothers you, just tell me Lucas, I’m a big girl."

The guitarist couldn’t help but smile at the grand entrance of his girlfriend. Y/N has always had a pretty chilling personality but at the same time she was as explosive as him, sometimes even more.

“First of all, Lucas, really?” The girl lets out a small laugh when she sees her boyfriend's expression, and her body looks visibly more relaxed.

“Second of all, I’m sorry beautiful. It's not that I'm running away from you." She rolls her eyes.

“I’m just... embarrased. I’m not in a good moment right know, and even some fries are out of my possibilities. It makes me angry that I can't give you anything you deserve.”

The young woman's strong and joking personality fades and her face only shows concern. She takes her boyfriend's face carefully and brings his face close to hers, their lips almost touching.

“All I want is to spend time with you. Nothing makes me happier than when you wink at me in the middle of a performance, or when you sing softly in my ear to help me fall asleep. You are the only thing I've ever wanted.”

At that moment Luke takes her by the waist to bring her even closer to him and finally close the small space that remained between them, savoring the lips of the woman who from the day he met knew was going to be his biggest addiction.

"Also, when you are the legend I know you will be, we’ll be able to buy all the fries in the world." He laughed in her lips and kiss her harder.

From the moment he met her when they were 12 years old, Y/N was the one who always kept him on his feet, trusting blindly and faithfully in Sunset Curve, sometimes even more than the 3 boys. That strength, humor and energy was what made Luke's life happier despite going through unpleasant moments. And now here she was, picking them up once more, 25 years later.

2020

Luke returned his attention to his friends just in time to intervene.

“Reggie, please tell me you are doing that country song!” His girlfriend was not only supportive with him, but also with his best friends who loved her as much as him.

“Not happening firecracker, stop encouraging him.” He said putting his hand around her waist and bringing her closer to him.

“What? I heard you sing pop, Luke. I’m pretty sure the kid can sing country If he wants to.”

“Preach it!” Said Julie with a smile while Reggie started laughing.

“Buuurneeeed” Alex replied giving his friend a high five.

“And what’s up with the suits? Not that I’m complaining, you look hot popstar.” She asks teasingly, giving her boyfriend a cheeky wink.

“That’s it Y/L.” Luke teletransported with his girlfriend, appearing back at the roof of the Orpheum.

They both stared for a few seconds until a smile invaded their faces.

"I know I didn't act like a normal girlfriend in there, just, it's hard to pretend you're okay after such a shock." The guitarist rests his forehead on his girl's, gently stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her down.

"I knew you needed to breathe , and I've never expected you to act like a normal girlfriend anyway. You weren't even a normal friend." He replies, her laugh does the trick and calms him down instantly.

“Luke?” Y/N asks brushing his lips with the corner of hers.

“Yeah?” He replies, hypnotized by the woman of his life and now death.

“Kiss me.” Luke didn’t know that even in death you can feel more alive than ever with the right person, but now he was ready to do it every day of his afterlife. The firecracker and the ROCKstar(as he claimed) were together again, and nothing is going to separe them this time.

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#jatp imagine #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson oneshot #luke x reader #jatp fanfic #jatp fanfiction #luke patterson fanfiction #luke patterson fic

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troublesomeshika · 3 years

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After all this time, I'm still into you (2)

shikamaru nara x reader word count: 3.4k warnings: swearing

You were nervous. You didn’t wanna have this conversation, but you knew you couldn’t let anymore time go by or else it might be too late. Dragging your feet, you turned down the street the Nara head house sat on. The lights were on, he was probably home. You grimaced before raising your hand to knock on the front door. After a few seconds it flew open, “Y/N!” You weren’t sure what you had been expecting but it certainly was not Yoshino pulling you into a hug.

“Oh, we haven’t seen you in forever! Come in come in!” You were thrown, you’d been ready to bare your soul and grovel, you’d screwed up all your courage and now you were being pulled inside Shikamaru’s house by his mom? You slid off your shoes, mumbling something about not making a fuss before Yoshino waved her hand at you. “Nonsense. I’m just finishing up making dinner! It would be wonderful if you’d join us.” She looked at you expectantly before you simply nodded, eyes wide, still trying to comprehend everything that was happening. You rounded the corner, being led by Yoshino, to see Shikamaru and Shikaku sitting together playing Shogi, a site not unfamiliar to you. Yoshino ushered you over to the two where you sat down, examining the board. “I’ll be done soon, just give me a few minutes.”

“Haven’t seen you in awhile,” Shikaku said lightly, “what’s my move here, Y/N?” You stared at the board. You weren’t good at Shogi, and he knew that. He’d tried to get you and Shikamaru to learn, but it was such a long winded game that you’d always found it quite boring.

“Sir, you know I’m terrible at this game. Please don’t make me.” He chuckled before moving a piece himself.

“It’s good to see you around again. Shikamaru’s quite boring company,” he laughed as Shikamaru scoffed and moved his own piece on the board. The three of you sat in silence, the awkwardness growing bit by bit until Yoshino called out for her husband. He stood, still looking at the board, “I’m sure I can trust that you’ll beat him, Y/N. I’ve already gotten you most of the way there, all that’s left is to finish out the game. I’m off to help with dinner.” He walked away, glancing back at you as you shifted to take his place. He was right, he had gotten you most of the way there. You felt a soft smile grace your lips as you moved a piece. You didn’t speak a word, waiting for Shikamaru to move. It was agony. The silence was thick and you couldn’t keep your knee from bouncing as you picked up one of his captured pieces, turning it over in your fingers. Hearing the sound of a piece moving on the board made your eyes snap to the game again. You picked up another piece and moved again. Back to sitting in silence. You watched Shikamaru’s face as he studied the board before rolling your eyes and tracing the writing on the piece in your hand. You took a deep breath looking around, wondering if you could leave before dinner started. A chuckle brought you back to reality and you looked at the board. He’d maneuvered you into checkmate.

“Guess you owe me lunch, loser pays right?” Shikamaru said looking up at you.

You simply rolled your eyes. “Fine.... I guess.”

He cocked an eyebrow, “You guess? Do you need me to explain how you lost? I thought you would’ve remembered that at the very least.”

“Whatever.” you shook your head, a small smile ghosting your lips. You both sat in silence for a moment more. Breathing deeply, you tried to calm your shot nerves. You opened your mouth, ready to apologize, and Shikaku returned.

“No. How could you let him win, Y/N?” he sounded angry, but his grin told you otherwise. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to start your training again. You must be rusty after all this time not playing.” You felt your cheeks go red from embarrassment.

“Is dinner ready?” Shikamaru cut in.

“Yes, your mother sent me to get you two.” He tilted his head, motioning for the two of you to follow him.

You stood, extending a hand to Shikamaru, who stood and looked at it. “You won.” He nodded and shook your hand before turning and following his father. Walking into the dining area, you saw the table set for four with gyoza and dumplings. Yoshino smiled from her seat. You took your place across from Shikamaru before the meal began. You’d been here before, eating over wasn’t uncommon when you and Shikamaru were younger, but just like all the things you’d shared as children, it had been awhile. At some point the conversation turned to relationships.

Yoshino looked towards you, “So, Shikamaru mentioned that you were dating Kiba?”

“Mom I said-”

“How are you two?” She smiled.

Swallowing your mouthful of food, you nodded. “Uh, yeah. I was dating Kiba for awhile, but we recently ended up calling it quits. Just wasn’t working out you know?”

Her face morphed into one of sympathy, “Aw that’s too bad.”

You smiled sadly, “It’s alright, it was mutual.”

Shikaku looked up, “Don’t worry, you kids have lots of time to find someone. I had loads of girlfriends before I met Yoshino here.”

“Mhmm, and I had lots of men asking for my hand before Shikaku finally got around to asking me,” Yoshino said, holding his gaze across the table with a tight lipped smile.

“And how lucky I am that you chose me.” He raised his drink to her.

“Yes well, anyways, I’m sure you’ll find someone.” She said looking back at you. You smiled, looking down at your food. Before you could stop yourself, your eyes flickered up to Shikamaru. He looked bored and before you could look away, his eyes met yours. You immediately dropped your gaze again, feeling your ears heat slightly. It had been years since you’d felt like this. You took another bite, determined to drown the butterflies in your stomach with food. The conversation moved onto missions and you recounted your most recent B rank mission. Part way through, you’d mentioned a fighting style you’d recently learned and Shikaku launched into an explanation of why it was dangerous, and its weaknesses. You listened respectfully, knowing he meant well. Once dinner was finished, you helped Yoshino clean up before excusing yourself, mentioning some paperwork you had to get done back at home.

“Alright well, I’ll have Shikamaru walk you home,” she offered.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine, ma’am. I don’t want to trouble him, he’d probably think it’s a drag.” You laughed.

“No, no. He needs to be more active. A walk will do him good.” she brushed her hands off on her apron, glancing out into the living room where Shikamaru laid, asleep. “Shikamaru!” she called. “Wake up and walk our guest home will you?” He muttered something under his breath and Yoshino narrowed her eyes, “What was that?”

“Nothing nothing,” he sat up, looking at you. “Ready to go?” You nodded, giving Yoshino a hug and thanking her for dinner. You waved and said goodbye to Shikaku before walking to the door and sliding on your shoes. Shikamaru appeared beside you and opened the front door.

“Thanks.” you said, stepping outside. The two of you walked in silence for a bit before you turned to him and spoke up. “Really, I can walk myself home, it’s not a big deal. I won’t tell your mom you ditched me, it’s fine.”

“Tch, she knows how long it takes to get to your place and back. And besides, we’re already halfway there, it’d be a drag to go home just to get yelled at.” You nodded and a silence fell over the two of you again, this time more comfortable and familiar. You found your mind wandering back to the day you’d first kissed. You knew you were romanticizing it from nostalgia, but you couldn’t help that little bit of you that wanted to believe what Ino had said earlier. There were only a few more blocks to your apartment and you decided to say something when you got there, that way you had an easy out if it got too awkward. Once you’d decided that, your nerves began firing, causing you to pull out your keys just so you could fiddle with them. “I can’t believe you’re still so hyperactive. Thought you would’ve mellowed out by now,” Shikamaru’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Always commenting on my energy. Is it because you’re jealous I have so much of it?”

“God no, I’m glad you have it. Better you than me.”

“Would it really be all that bad if you were a little more active?” You poked him with your keys.

“Uhh yeah. It most definitely would. Somebody’s gotta watch the clouds go by and that’s my job in this world. Can’t do that if I’m always going like you.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Of course you’d say something like that.” You chuckled, gazing at him as you walked, a smile on your lips.

“What?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re staring. What is it?”

“Oh nothing, just glad we’re back to normal.” You said, turning to look ahead again.

His jaw tightened. “Oh.”

One word and your stomach dropped onto the road. You kept walking but you’d definitely left it behind in the dirt. Shit. What had you said wrong? Did he not think the two of you were back to normal? You wanted to hit yourself over the head. You took a deep breath, but as you opened your mouth you rounded the corner, coming straight up on your apartment building. You and Shikamaru both stopped and stood still. “Would you like to come up?” You asked hopefully.

“I should get back-”

“Please?” You stared directly into his eyes. You had to talk to him, otherwise what was the point of the night.

He gave in, shrugging. “Alright, fine. But it needs to be quick.”

You smiled, leading the way up the stairs. “Don’t worry, I just”-- you paused, ready to say it but unable to--”I have some paperwork issues and I need a genius to solve them.”

“Troublesome, roping me into doing your work for you.”

You scoffed, “As if. No see, I actually want my work to be done, not just half completed.”

“Okay, do you want my help or not?” You glanced back and saw the corner of his mouth tilted up in a smirk.

“Yes please, c’mon in.” You unlocked the door and held it open for him. Slipping your shoes off inside the door, you flicked on the light, immediately noticing the mess. It wasn’t bad.... but you hadn’t gotten around to those errands earlier today- one of which was cleaning up your apartment. You immediately hurried to grab some of the jackets and trash, blushing out of embarrassment. “Heh, sorry for the mess. I was a little busy today.”

He waved a hand dismissively, “Y/N I’ve known you how long? It’s not surprising or weird to me, I really couldn’t care less.” He sat down on your couch, stretching out his legs. “So, the paperwork?” Just when your stomach had finally crawled its way back into place, it dropped to your feet again. Paperwork. Your eyes shot all over the room before landing on your recent packet that you had yet to fix. Thank god. You grabbed it and walked over to the couch. Staring at him, you stood waiting.

“Well?” he raised an eyebrow at you.

Rolling your eyes you shoved his legs off your couch and sat down. He raised his legs and threw them across your lap causing your heart rate to spike.

“It’s this packet,” you tossed the packet into his lap before putting your own feet up on the coffee table in front of you and leaning back, “they gave it back and told me I did it wrong, but I don’t know which part of it is wrong and I’ve stared at it so much that it all looks wrong at this point.” He hummed in response, reading over the pages.

“Here,” he pointed it out and you leaned over, looking at the page. “You shouldn’t have put that there,” he proceeded to explain the error, but you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at his lips. Every time you caught yourself you forced your eyes back to the paper in his hands, but it continued happening. “There, now you can fix your paperwork.” He handed it back, putting his arms behind his head and closing his eyes. You reached forward and grabbed a pen, beginning to fix your mistakes. You glanced over at him. Back to the paper in front of you. Scribbling a bit, you snuck a look at his face again. And back to the paper. When you looked at him again, one of his eyes was cracked open watching you. Your ears began heating again, just as they had earlier that night as you forced yourself back to the task at hand.

“Would you just spit it out already?”

You stared at the paper, trying to focus on the words in front of you. Scribbling you asked as nonchalantly as you could manage, “Spit what out?”

“Whatever it is that’s making you act so weird. You were like this at lunch too. If it’s that time of month I’ll gladly leave you be.”

You reached out and slapped the side of his head. “Man, fuck you.” you couldn’t help but laugh. “I hate you so much, you know?” You threw the paperwork on the table in front of you, shaking your head.

“Mhmm. The feeling is mutual.”

You let the silence hang again. For the third time that night, you screwed up your courage, intent on saying something, anything. “Alright, cards on the table, there is something I’ve been wanting to say. As much as I love your mom’s cooking, that wasn’t why I showed up at your house tonight.”

“So I was right.”

You rolled your eyes, “Not the point.”

“Ah ah. Say it.”

“No, it’s irrelevant.”

He lifted his legs and dropped them back into your lap.

“Uhf. Ok, jeez, you were right.”

“Thank you, you may continue.”

You sighed. “I just....” pausing again, you began subconsciously tracing small circles on his leg.

“If you’re gonna go soft on me just get it over with.”

You glared at him. “Fine. What I wanted to say was, I’m sorry.” You let the phrase hang in between you, letting him decide the route of the conversation.

“What for?”

“For getting us here.”

“I’m still confused. I think we both walked here with our own legs, and aside from that, I’m pretty content right now.”

“Shikamaru. That’s not what I mean. I let our friendship die. And then I turned to you expecting you to be there for me after I’d willingly pulled away. And now it’s weird and awkward between us.”

“Ehh you were with Kiba. It wasn’t that surprising. And it’s only awkward if you make it awkward.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it was okay. Ino told me about how it wasn’t a good time for you, and I’m sorry because it was my fault.”

He groaned beside you. “Troublesome Ino. Can’t trust her to keep her mouth shut. What exactly did she say to you?”

“Well, she said that it wasn’t a good time for you, and....” you stopped, trying to decide how to phrase your next words, “she may or may not have thought you had feelings for me.” His leg twitched almost imperceptibly under your hand. “But I told her she was wrong. Neither of us has felt that way about each other, we were always just best friends.”

He sighed. “I’m gonna kill that woman the next time I see her. Well, she didn’t lie to you.” Your heart stopped and your hand faltered on Shikamaru’s leg. “But don’t worry I’m over it now. It was a temporary thing, so no need to feel uncomfortable.”

“Oh, alright.” You said, trying to hide the hurt in your voice. “Well anyways, I wanted to say I’m sorry for breaking our friendship and I just want us to go back to how we were before. Are you.... good with that?”

He opened his eyes. “Of course. You women and your need to have a conversation about everything. Anyways, does this mean you’ll take tomorrow off to cloud watch with me?”

You sighed, “If I must. Although, I have to turn in this paperwork first, and I really do need to go grocery shopping, and I have-”

“Ah ah. Meet me at noon at Ichiraku and you can buy that lunch you owe me. Afterwards you’re taking the day off to watch some clouds. I don’t care what you have to do, get it done beforehand.” He pulled his legs to the floor and stood up. “Please don’t make me come looking for you, I don’t have the energy to chase you around the village, but I will if I have to.” He extended a hand which you gladly took before he pulled you up off the couch, his hand lingering in yours for what felt like a year.

“Alright alright. Noon tomorrow. See you then.” You walked him to the door before pulling him into a hug. He seemed startled, but hugged you back, albeit awkwardly. “Thank you Shikamaru. I really did miss our friendship.” It was the truth, although you were also starting to realize you’d missed quite a bit more about the boy as well.

“Are you sure it’s not that time?”

You pushed him away as he chuckled. “Get out of here, pineapple head.” He raised a hand in farewell and made his way down the stairs as you closed the door. You sighed and walked back to the couch flopping down. You could still smell the slight scent of trees and grass that seemed to follow Shikamaru everywhere. Groaning, you stood up and stared at where he’d lay minutes before. “Shikamaru Nara, you are going to be the death of me.” You shook your head before walking to your room and laying face down on your bed. It was a weird feeling, to be back in the same position you’d been in as children. Except now you knew for sure that the feeling wasn’t mutual, and that you’d missed your chance. All you could do was hope you got over your resurfacing feelings quickly and quietly. You weren’t going to screw up this friendship for a second time and if that meant quietly shoving down your feelings, well then, that’s just what you’d do.

Bonus:

As he walked down the stairs of your apartment complex, Shikamaru paused. He turned back towards the top of the stairs. Raising his hand to his face, he squeezed the bridge of his nose before continuing the way he’d been going. He made his way back to his house, mulling over the night in his head. You’d seemed so shocked about him ever having feelings for you, what choice did he have but to tell you he’d gotten over it? Besides, he hadn’t lied. His feelings had been temporary. They had to be. He had only felt that way because he was jealous seeing you with Kiba when you were meant to be his best friend. And that had somehow morphed into what he had thought were feelings for a brief time. That was all. That had to be all. Because if he had feelings for you, he was going to end up losing your friendship again, only this time it would be his fault. You didn’t feel the same, that was clear enough from your reaction. So platonic was what it was going to have to be. He sighed, opening the door to his house. Walking into the living room, he faced his parents who were sitting together.

“Y/N got home safe?”

“Yeah, it’s not like there’re murderers just casually walking around Konoha, Mom.”

Yoshino rolled her eyes as Shikaku spoke up, “It was nice to have her back over. Haven’t seen her in awhile, I was missing all that energy.”

“And she’s recently single, that’s interesting.” Yoshino looked at her son who simply rolled his eyes and turned to walk towards his room.

“Oh leave him alone,” Shikaku scolded as Shikamaru wandered out of earshot and slid the door to his room closed. He sat down on his bed and laid back to stare at the ceiling.

“I’m just excited to be friends again, that’s all.” He lied to the empty room. “God, why did I insist she come cloud watch with me?” He groaned and turned onto his side, not bothering to change out of his clothes. “What a drag.”

#shikamaru x reader #shikamaru x y/n #shikamaru nara #shikamaru nara x reader #shikamaru angst #shikamaru x you #shikamaru #shikamaru nara angst #shikamaru nara x (y/n)#nara shikamaru #nara shikamaru x reader #naruto imagines #naruto #imagine #naruto imagine #anime #reader insert #x reader

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bitch-im-your-biggest-nightmare · 4 years

Text

Parents fucking suck bro. [Corpse Husband & Reader]

Warnings: Arguments, bad parents, swearing, crying Summary: Y/N loves playing with Among Us with the others, even if she's the youngest among them. While shes playing with them, her parents walk in and are not happy with the fact she’s playing with them. There's a big argument and shit goes down but Corpse is there to comfort Y/N. Tag list: @save-the-sky @alilshit @whatifwedo @hughugh20 @fleurmoon @bi-andready-tocry @itsminniekat @yoongi-holland @loraleiix @hacker-ghost @fanworrior @marvelous-musicals @annshit @unknown-and-invisible @letsloveimagines @hairbrush-anon @babyhoneystvles

--------- --------- ---------

“Hey guys” Y/N greeted happily as they entered the lobby in Among Us. They have been playing Among Us with Felix, Sean, Rae, Toast, Sykkuno, Charlie, and Corpse for a while now. Y/N was 18 and still living at home, making money off of YouTube. They’re parents were strict and wanted them to have a “real job” like being a doctor. Y/N knew their parents were toxic and would disapprove of their job choice, so they keep it a secret.

“hey Y/N”

“Hello”

“hii”

“Whats up Y/N”

Everyone began to greet them, which made them smile. Y/N was filming the gameplay of this for a new video on their channel. Everyone seemed to love when they played Among Us, so they always played it- doing commentary and music on the side. “How you guys doing on this..” they looked out the window of their darkened bedroom, seeing heavy rain pouring down from the dark clouds in the sky. “Pretty damn depressing day where i'm at, holy shit.”

There was a couple of laughs and chuckles, and everyone began to state what the weather was like where they were. There was a lot of “Its nice out where am”s. It rains a fuck ton where Y/N lives, especially during spring. But they loved it, rain was their favorite.

“Alrriiight is everyone here?” Toast asked.

“Nope, Corpse is joining.” Sean announced, which caused sounds of happiness. Corpse was everyone's favorite, it was that damn voice. Corpse was Y/Ns bestie, they always had each other backs. There was many people who shipped them, but they both only wanted to be friends.

A few seconds after Sean spoke, Corpse joined. “Hey guys.” Corpse said, he sounded tired. But that was common for him, he told you about his insomnia. He probably didn’t get any sleep last night.

“Alright lets start the game.” Sean said, clicking to begin the game. Y/N smiled at the big letters reading “IMPOSTER” at the top of their screen. They’re a really good imposter- as they were told. They first went to blend in with crewmates, going to walk around a bit. While roaming around, they went into electrical to fake a task. Y/N saw this as the perfect chance to get their first kill in. So, they snuck up and killed him, then they vented to escape.

After a minute, a dead body was reported and they were now at an emergency meeting.

“Where was the body?” Toast asked.

“I found the body iiin.. electrical.” Rae replied, “Who was in there last?”

“I did see Y/N walking towards electrical.” Felix said, “That is where the body was found.”

“Yeah, but did go into electrical?” Y/N said, “I was heading to reactor, I had a task there.”

“Not the best alibi.” Sean said, “But I’ll take it.”

“Could be Rea, but.. wait no.” Sykkuno said.

“How could it be me if I reported the body?” Rae chuckled.

“Yeah I know I just realized.” Sykkuno replied.

“So... skip vote?” Corpse said.

“I’m still sus on Y/N.” Felix said while voting for Y/N.

“Vote Aoc shes kinda sus.” Y/N said, voting for Rae.

“Wha- Y/N!” Rae said.

“Sus.” Y/N said plainly.

“Ok yeah i'm skipping this vote.” Toast said, skipping the vote.

Most people skipped the vote, so no one was out. Y/N continued to play the game how she would, until she killed someone and had to quickly vent because someone just walked by. That made them shriek, “oh sugar honey ICED tEA-” they laughed, “That was a close one, hah.” Well seemed they were being too loud because their mother walked in.

“Why are you being so loud?” She asked, just as an emergency meeting started.

“Oh shit- my moms here hold on.” Y/N said, going to mute but misclicking, so now they were all going to hear this. “I’m just playing Among Us.”

“Shouldn’t you be looking for a job instead of playing stupid video games?” Mom said, stepping into the room.

“Oh- uhm... I do YouTube as a job. I make money of it.” Y/N replied quietly, knowing what was to come next.

‘whAT?! YouTube is not a fucking job Y/N!! Me and your father told you many many times that we want you to be a doctor!” Mom yelled. Y/Ns sister got into a great college because of her smarts and intelligence, shes going to be a surgeon one day. But that just wasn’t Y/N, they wanted to make content for the people on the internet. And so far, it was working pretty damn well.

Y/N sighed, “Oh my god mom shut up! I hate all that doctor college bullshit. Im making enough money on here!”

“Are you delusional?! Why can’t you be more like your sister, shes so successful!” Mom yelled, she was in disbelief. She wanted to have the perfect children, but she only got one.

“WHY DO YOU ALWAYS COMPARE ME TO HER?!?” Y/N screamed, beginning to cry. “What does it fucking matter?!”

“You are such a fucking disappointment. Get off that damn game!” Mom said, running over to pull Y/N away. But Y/N pushed her back.

“Bro FUCK off! its my goddamn business, Im a fucking adult now, leave my shit alone!” Y/N screamed through the tears.

“I am your mother! I know best! Now get off that fuckin- OW!” Y/N slapped their mother straight across the face, pushing her out of their room and closing the door, locking it. They sat back down and looked at her screen.

“Oh fuck. You heard all of that.” Y/n choked a little, “Shit.”

This is where Corpse came in, breaking the silence and shock between everyone. They listened to the whole thing, messaging each other in the chat what to do. “Hey, your moms an asshat.”

Y/N flinched, hearing banging on her door and screaming. “And a fucking psychopath!” they sunk down a bit, putting their hands on their forehead and breathing heavily. “Shes gonna kill me!”

“Hey hey hey, its alright Y/N. Don’t let her get to you, she doesn’t know what shes saying.” Rae said.

“I personally think you have great content.” Toast said, “I don’t think i would trust you as a doctor.”

“hey don’t listen to her Y/N, we’re always here for you.” Corpse said, “DM me and we can talk about it more, ok?”

Y/N sniffled, “Ok.” Then they muted, taking their phone out to DM Corpse.

T/N: Hey

Corpse_Husband: Hey are you doing alright?

T/N: No

T/N: Do you think im a disappointment? Is YouTube really worth it?

Corpse_Husband: Disappointment? no. The only disappointment is that sad excuse of a mother you have. And YouTube? hell yeah its worth it. I started youtube off when I was younger and had a blast. If you’re having fun and making bank keep doing it! You’re 18, your mother doesn’t control you anymore.

Corpse_Husband: Pewdiepie is a subscriber to your channel

Corpse_Husband: That should be enough motivation

T/N: you have weird ways of making me happy :’)

Corpse_Husband: I do have facts.

Corpse_Husband: But seriously, please dont have a panic attack, those suck. But do you wanna play more Among Us? It might cheer you up :D

T/N: Yeah yeah yeah thanks. And sure, I’ll play more among us. Thanks Corpse, your the best best friend 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🌹🌹🥀

Corpse_Husband: 🥺

~The End~

Oh my god this ones terrible. I might rewrite it in the future.

#corpse husband #corpse x reader #fanfiction #requests #oneshots #bad parenting

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qqueenofhades · 3 years

Note

86 with fivan, per favore? 👀

Anonymous asked: ohh those writing prompts are amazing !! Maybe No. 82 & Fivan?

Tagging @mearcatsreturns for Reasons.

82. “Just breathe, okay?”

86. “Don’t be scared, I’m right here.”

Ivan Kaminsky has long lived in abject terror that this day might come.

He saw it far-off, lurking in the future but creeping inexorably closer, after the war was ended, a peace settlement was made, and the former enemies ascended the throne as king and queen of Ravka. He hoped he was mistaken, but a growing panic in the pit of his gut knew that he wasn't. Now it has finally, incontrovertibly come, and he's staring down the barrel of utter despair. This can't be right. This can't be happening. If he truly has to endure this, it will shatter him.

What? What are you talking about? No, no, no. God no. He doesn't mean losing Fedyor. That would be, bar none, the single worst event in the history of the universe. This is just the worst day of Ivan's life, although nobody else seems to see it that way. They're gathered in the chamber in their best clothes, whispering excitedly about the safe arrival of the little tsarevna, how beautiful she is, how she is -- well, until the arrival of a brother, though there are murmurings about changing the law -- the heiress presumptive to the crown of Ravka. And, of course, that tiny little detail that while nobody can be sure, this child can probably summon both Sun and Shadow. Together. Or at once. While also being the daughter of the two most powerful people in the world. And in line to become so herself.

Oh, Saints.

Ivan can't see any way for this to go terribly, terribly wrong. That was sarcasm, by the way. He absolutely very much can.

This is why, he mutters furiously to himself, certain classes of people (let us call them, in accordance with the latest taxonomic science, "heterosexuals") should not ever have sexual intercourse. It leads to horrible things like children, and even more horrible things like Ivan being expected to look at them. As Genya comes out with the news that the tsaritsa is ready to receive them, Ivan contemplates spinning around and just fucking booking it directly out of the Big Palace and into the wilderness, never to return. Unfortunately, he can't, because his husband already has hold of his elbow. "Just breathe, okay?" Fedyor mutters, failing miserably at trying not to laugh in his face. "Don't be scared. I'm right here."

Ivan shoots him an absolutely filthy look as they enter the antechamber, still crowded with doctors, attendants, and other hangers-on. "You make it sound like I'm the one giving birth."

"Saints forfend." Fedyor chews his cheek, manfully wrestling back his smirk, then steps up and bows deeply to the woman in the bed. "Congratulations, moya tsaritsa! We're so happy for you."

Her Imperial Majesty Alina Starkov Morozova, Queen of Ravka, Sun Summoner, so forth and etcetera, raises a dark eyebrow, considerately deciding not to ask whether it is in fact both of them. She is perched in weary but triumphant repose among the pillows, holding the swaddled bundle of her infant daughter, while His Imperial Majesty Aleksander Morozova, King of Ravka, Shadow Summoner, Realm's Biggest Idiot, so forth and etcetera, sits adoringly at her side and gazes at her like -- well, like the actual sun. Ivan feels nauseous.

"Here," Alina says, holding the baby out. "Do you want to meet her?"

Fedyor, damn his traitorous hide, immediately accepts the little princess into his arms and starts making funny faces at her while referring to himself as "Uncle Fedya." Saints, this is awful. Ivan looks at the ceiling and does his best not to move or speak at all while Fedyor embarrasses himself with young Tsarevna Anastasia Aleksanderevna Morozova, Princess of Ravka, Summoner of Some Dangerously Powerful Sort, so forth and etcetera. Despite her number of names, she will be known, as she grows, simply as Nastia. Ivan fears that Nasty is greatly underselling it. He has never in his entire life been more devoutly grateful that Fedyor is not a woman.

Seeing that people are starting to look at him funny, and since he is the king's most trusted general, Ivan decides loathingly that it is incumbent upon him to perform the minimum of social courtesies. He advances upon Alina's bed, places one hand militantly on his heart, and inclines his head half an inch, struggling for the correct things you're supposed to say to heterosexuals when they insist on spawning and making it everyone else's problem. "My felicitations, moya tsaritsa," he comes up with. "For your offspring who is... not dead. Who is, in fact, perfectly healthy. I'm sure you're.... very pleased."

Alina and Aleksander both glare at him. Ivan takes it to mean that he has succeeded, steps back, and counts the minutes until Fedyor is forced to relinquish his goddaughter (Ivan fears even more that this designation is going to be involuntarily likewise applied to him). The infant starts to make an appalling noise. Is it dying? No, nobody seems more alarmed than usual, and Ivan would be able to detect it in its heartbeat. Nonetheless, he seizes Fedyor's arm and propels them swiftly out, barely breathing until the door slams shut behind them.

"What do you think?" Fedyor asks, the instant they are alone. "Should we have one of our own, Vanya?"

The prospect suffuses Ivan in a mantle of despair even darker than the now-vanished Shadow Fold. He stops short in the corridor and stares at his beloved in utter horror. "Tell me you don't mean that."

"I'm not an idiot, Vanya." Fedyor laughs and takes his arm again. "Of course I didn't. But that doesn't mean that we aren't going to spoil little Nastia rotten and, of course, as I volunteered, babysit for her at every opportunity."

Ivan's internal scream can probably be heard in Novyi Zem.

#ivan x fedyor #fivan #heartrender husbands #darklina #darklina ff #fivan ff #anonymous #ask

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pedros-mustache · 3 years

Text

mr. grinch

summary: javi was never going to be the all-out-for-the-holidays type, was he?

word count: 2.7k

warnings: borderline soft!javi (the heart wants what the heart wants), specifically related to the christmas holiday, a disgusting amount of fluff, x fem!reader

a/n: wrote a post about this concept and decided that wasn’t enough. my forte is angst and pining, not fluff, so forgive me if this is trash.

also: this will be repeated in the future, i’m sure, but if you have at all interacted with/commented on/reblogged/liked any of my previous fics thank! you! i would reply to each and every comment however that would require exposing my main (as this is a side-blog) and that’s not gonna happen. please know that i see and feel your love! xoxo!

you long for the day after thanksgiving more than thanksgiving itself.

sure, you enjoy the november holiday; it’s not like you hate it. especially since getting married, since having kids, you find thanksgiving means a little more to you now than it did prior to adulthood.

you enjoy packing the kids up and traveling across town to your mother’s house for thanksgiving breakfast and then packing the kids up again and going to javi’s father’s house for thanksgiving dinner. you enjoy sitting beside your husband, your hand on his thigh, as you watch your children play with their cousins or be passed around by distant aunts and uncles. you enjoy knowing that you’re safe, that javi’s safe, that the babies are safe. you enjoy knowing that you’re loved.

really, thanksgiving is nice, a good reminder of all that you have to be thankful for. but it’s just that: nice.

the day after thanksgiving, though... that’s when the real fun begins.

since childhood, your family has waited to decorate for christmas until the day after thanksgiving, and you’ve brought the tradition to your new household. javi tells you that your excitement for christmas overshadows thanksgiving, and maybe it does, but you really don’t care. not when christmas is ten times more cozy and festive than thanksgiving could ever dream of being.

this year, you rise early on the appointed day and wake javi with a firm shake to the shoulder. he groans, rolls over to his stomach, and slips his head beneath a pillow.

“too early,” he mutters.

you exit the ensuite bathroom, rubbing your lotioned palms together as you prepare for a long day of unwrapping dusty boxes and fragile decorations. with a grin, you tap javi’s foot beneath the bedcovers. “get up before i sic the kids on you.”

he mumbles something under his breath, but the weight of the pillow muffles his words, so you leave him to his sulking. he’s never been a morning person, not in all the years you’ve known him. in a few minutes he’ll be up; you just have to give him time.

you find your son, tomás, awake and raring to go. six and a half years old and responsible as ever, it is his greatest joy in life to make his father proud. and though javier is a man of few emotional words, there’s a soft spot in his heart for both his children. today marks the first year tomás is old enough and capable enough to help his father with the outdoor decorations, and he’s already halfway dressed, his small feet shoved in tiny boots and his unruly hair snug beneath a baseball cap.

leaning against the doorframe, you watch as tomás struggles to get his arms through the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “you’re up bright and early,” you say, arching an eyebrow.

“wanna”—he bites his lip in concentration—“wanna help daddy today.” he drops his head with a heavy sigh. one elbow in particular remains stuck in the sleeve of his shirt, caught at a ninety degree angle.

you cross the bedroom to kneel in front of him and gently tug on his shirtsleeve. the arm once stuck at an uncomfortable angle flops to his side, and you smooth your hands over his narrow shoulders. “i’m sure you’ll be a big help, tommy. you just have to promise to do as daddy says.”

“yeah, i promise.”

with a squeeze to his arm, you cock your head to the open bedroom door. “go run downstairs and pour yourself some cereal while i get your sister up. daddy will be down soon.”

boots heavy around his ankles, tomás dutifully makes his way to the kitchen, his steps slow as he descends the steep stairs. his shoes clomp on the hardwood, and you hesitate, waiting to hear the cabinet doors open and shut, before moving to wake your daughter. you know by now that, though tomás thinks himself a fully grown boy, his legs often move faster than his brain, and you’ve had one too many tumbles down the staircase to show for it. the last thing you need today is a split forehead or bonked chin.

like her brother, julieta is awake when you enter her dimly lit nursery. she gives you a gummy smile when you reach down to lift her from the small mattress, and she gurgles happily as you change her diaper and dress her for the day. her arms flap against her sides in joy as you enter your bedroom and place her on your bed. with practiced effort, julieta crawls her way up the bed and presses her tiny fists against javi’s shoulders.

“come on, javier,” you say, pulling the covers away from your husband’s body. he groans in response, head still tucked beneath his pillow. “tommy’s already downstairs waiting for you.”

with a huff, javi turns to his back, drawing julieta with him, one broad hand splayed across her entire back. “getting up this early the day after thanksgiving is cruel and unusual punishment.”

“no—you’re just dramatic.”

“i think i ate too much pie yesterday.” he sits up with a frown. “i’m gonna have a beer gut like my uncle before you know it.”

“maybe, but i reckon you’ll still look cute.” you grab his wrist and tug him out of bed. he keeps julieta firm against his chest as he moves. “you know i don’t like to waste time, so please move that cute ass of yours downstairs. it’s past eight-thirty already.”

javi tosses a surprised look over his shoulder as you shove him out of the room, plaid pajama pants and all. “you think i have a cute ass?”

“shut up,” you grumble.

tomás sits at the kitchen table, bowl of cereal on his plastic placemat. he grins when javi enters the room, and a line of milk dribbles down his chin, which you are quick to wipe away with a stray napkin.

“hi, daddy.” rising to his knees, tomás swivels in his seat and braces his hands on the back of the chair. he watches as javi deposits julieta in her high-chair then sets about making his morning pot of coffee. “we’re gonna put the lights up outside today?”

without turning away from the coffee maker, javi nods. “yeah, champ. but, you know, i was thinking.” his eyes slide to yours as he shuts the coffee maker’s lid and flips the on button. “what if we did something... different this year?”

you still. julieta makes grabby fingers for the half of the banana that still hasn’t been sliced for her, and she kicks her legs against the high-chair. “different?” you narrow your eyes. “different how?”

“oh, i dunno.” javi leans back against the stove and crosses his arms over his chest. he has all the air of nonchalance, but you know this is a calculated attack. if you know anything about your husband, it’s that once he gets an idea in his head, he’ll work his way forwards and backwards to bring it to fruition. “just different.”

“so no lights?”

javi shakes his head in reassurance for both you and your son. “no, tommy, we’ll still have lights. just different lights.” for the crescendo of his argument, javi crosses the kitchen and crouches beside your chair. he squeezes your thigh, his brown eyes soft and pleading. “come on, mi vida, let’s spice it up a little bit. i’ve got it all worked out, so you don’t have to worry about anything.”

you toss your head back on a laugh. “oh, i’m sure i won’t!”

“trust me, baby,” he whispers, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, and, for a moment, focusing more on the patterns of your face than his end goal.

you feel your resolve soften. how can it not? javi is decidedly undomestic, even with a wife and two kids. oh, he loves you; he adores his children. but it’s been a long time coming to get to this moment—him on his knees with his own holiday decoration plans. you’d be a fool to turn him down.

you shut your eyes and give him a nod. “okay, fine. i trust you.”

javi pops to his feet with a loud clap and equally as loud, “alright!” he points to tomás. “finish your cereal, kid, ‘cause we got work to do.”

dropping a kiss to the top of your head, he makes for the stairs. his socked feet slide on the linoleum, which causes to tomás to laugh in amusement, but you’re too stunned by javi’s sudden change of mood that you can’t help but feel like you’ve been duped.

spice up christmas decorations? you can only pray that whatever he has in store won’t get you a stern letter from the homeowner’s association.

***

before beginning his mysterious outdoor decorating project, javi pulls all the boxes labeled christmas down from the attic. he helps you assemble the artificial tree in the corner of the living room, and he, though with a good measure of grumbling, adjusts and readjusts the garland draping the front door.

but as soon as you give him the go ahead, he pushes you inside, makes you promise not to peek until he’s finished, and, like schoolboys up to no good, hurries away with tomás.

as the door slams in your face, effectively cutting you out of the fun, you glance at your daughter and roll your eyes. “men,” you say, and she coos in agreement.

it’s easy to get lost in your work for the remainder of the afternoon. there’s tens of ornaments to put on the tree and the little village to set up along the front windowsill. julieta follows as you move throughout the house. she crawls, or scoots on her bum, or rolls behind in her baby walker. she’s primarily a happy baby, and after tomás and his terrible twos, you’re thankful for a reprieve from the incessant crying and surly attitude.

christmas tune after christmas tune drifts from the record player in the foyer, and you bump along to the music, finding the work of unpacking boxes and artfully arranging decorations is not so much work with a good playlist and a giggly baby on your hip.

after pausing for lunch, you resume with the finishing touches. the house looks cozy, you have to admit. the tree sparkles in its corner, and the quaint ceramic village display on the windowsill reminds you spending the holidays with your grandmother as a child. there’s miniature, stuffed snowmen in the kitchen that tomás made in school and papier-mâché carolers that javi’s aunt crafted in the hall. an advent calendar hangs from the back of the closet door, and a spring of faux mistletoe dangles over the dining room doorway.

you’re proud of your work, but more than that, you’re proud of the life you’ve made alongside your husband. when he’d proposed all those years ago (a dreadfully unromantic proposal of a ring simply slid across the table at a restaurant), he’d promised life with him wouldn’t be easy. he hadn’t been lying. still, you’ve made it this far, and you wouldn’t go back on your vows for the world.

it does surprise you that you haven’t heard a peep out of the boys for most of the day. tomás hasn’t so much as run inside to use the bathroom or grab a drink of water. either javi’s spicy christmas decorations were more labor-intensive than he’d originally planned, or he’d jaunted off to his father’s house to escape the responsibility, taking tomás with him. you can’t decide which possibility you’d prefer.

before you can pick up the phone to call your father-in-law, the garage door opens. javi sticks his head into the hallway, a wide grin on his face when he sees you.

“okay, we’re ready.”

you put a hand on your hip. “are you sure?”

“yeah, i’m sure.” he steps inside long enough to lift julieta from her place in the bouncy walker. he sets her on his shoulders, and she squeals as she grabs fistfuls of his hair. “i thought you trusted me?”

you place the phone on the receiver and grab your jacket. “don’t throw my words back at me, javier.”

he taps your ass when you brush past him into the garage. “you’ll love it,” he says. “but you have to close your eyes.”

“really? just how different are these decorations?”

“oh, it’s like nothin’ you’ve seen before, hermosa. now shut your eyes!” with an exaggerated sigh, you close your eyes. javi squeezes your shoulder, and you start to walk forward into the driveway. “tomás, keep a watch on your mother. make sure she doesn’t peek.”

javi maneuvers you until you feel the driveway beneath your feet give way to soft grass. he places julieta in your arms then squeezes both of your shoulders. you can feel the excitement in his fingers, feel it in the way he practically bounces with anticipation behind you. you have entirely no idea of what to expect, but if putting up christmas decorations has made javi this excited, no matter what the decor is, you’ll let him do it every year.

“ready, tommy?”

“ready!”

javi presses a kiss to the side of your neck, his arm winding around your stomach to pull you back against his chest. he is firm behind you, the solid foundation on which your family stands. “ready, mi vida?” his voice is low, and even after all this time, it still sends a shiver down your spine.

in lieu of answering aloud, you simply nod.

“okay. tomás, in three... two... one.” he squeezes your hip. “open your eyes.”

the air in your chest leaves in a giant whoosh as you take in his decorations.

“oh my god, javier,” is all you can say as you stare in dumb-founded shock.

javier laughs—a real, hearty laugh—as he watches your face. “isn’t it great?!”

it—it being a wooden cutout painted to look like dr. seuss’s the grinch.

it being that cutout pulling down a strand of illuminated colored lights from the gutter.

it being the most half-hearted christmas decorations you’ve ever seen.

“where on earth did you get that?”

“eddie from two streets away. i saw it in his yard and knew i had to have one, so he got another from his guy and gave it to me.” he shakes his head as he looks on in pride. “best forty bucks i ever spent. it’s been in the back of my truck for weeks!”

“you are so lucky that i love you, javier.”

he laughs again, squeezing you tighter against his chest. “hey! i put lights on the bushes for you. that’s gotta count for something?”

dropping your head against his shoulder, you nod. “it does. and the more i look at the grinch, the funnier it is.” you hold up a finger. “but i’m not laughing yet.”

you glance at your neighbor’s house, at the cookie-cuter lights lining the frame of their two-story, at the mechanical reindeer bobbing their heads up and down. you look back at your... grinch, at his twisted smile and tip-toed stance and the sad string of lights wound from his hand to the gutter. you snort in amusement.

“i’ve got to hand it to you—this is the most javier peña thing you’ve ever done. i’m almost proud.”

“i knew you’d love it.”

turning in his arms, you shake your head. “no, i just love you.”

javi smiles and lowers his head to kiss you softly. it’s his way of returning the sentiment, and you preen under his affection.

but then you pull away with a frown. “wait a minute.” laying a finger against his chest, you tilt your head toward tomás. “where have you been all day? this set-up couldn’t have taken more than half an hour.”

javi cringes and glances at his son. he rubs a hand across the back of his beck. “yeah, about that...”

tomás appears from his place plugging in the outdoor extension chords. “daddy took me to the shooting range!”

gaping, you sputter to form a coherent sentence. “you what?!”

“tomás,” javi whispers, swiping his palm over his son’s hair. “you weren’t supposed to say anything.” he looks up through his lashes with a wry smile. “we did—yeah, we did go to the range for a bit.”

“oh, javier peña, you are so lucky i love you.”

javi grins, captures your chin between his fingers, and kisses you again. “yeah, i am.”

***

taglist: @insideafictionaluniverse @ladytrashbird @generaldamneron

#javier pena x reader #javier peña #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos #narcos fanfic #javier peña x reader #x fem!reader #pm writes

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dancingthesambaa · 3 years

Text

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 17

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 17: Can You Feel The Love Tonight~

“Pass some of that Okra.”

“Here you go.”

“Why is this so spicy?!”

“Well it is the spicy plate, if you can’t handle the heat then you should have gotten the other plate.”

“No, just this one specifically is damn spicy!”

“Red made some of them.”

“It’s not my fault that your taste isn’t refined enough.”

“Come over here and say that!”

“No fighting at the table,” Macaque said as he watched Bohai try to stand up from his seat, while Red was smirking at him.

“Won’t be much of a fight,” the demon prince mocked.

“You little-” his mouth was then stuffed with green beans.

“Just eat some veggies and calm yourself,” Sheng cracked a grin as they put some green beans in their mouth.

The jellyfish demon moodily just chewed on his food in silence.

“Children, all of them,” Mei said as she set down the bowl of Okra Ahmed passed her.

“So have you heard about the rumors about Yakimoto,” Yanyu leaned into MK.

“Yakimoto? The head of the Neurology department?”

“That’s the one.”

“What about her?”

“Well recently I have heard from a friend of mine, who heard from the janitor, who had heard from a physician of that department, that he had heard that she had been having little outings with her lovely secretary of hers,” she whispered loudly.

“Wait, doesn't she have a husband?” His eyes widened.

“Yes she does, but she’s always complaining about the whole ordeal being set up as an arranged marriage by both of their parents-”

“That’s still a thing?”

“Apparently, the two see each other as siblings.”

“Really?!”

“Totally, in fact, there have been whispers that her husband also has a special man as well.”

“Shut up, tell me more,” he stuffed the Tofu in his mouth as Yanyu began to talk all about the man at the flower shop a couple of blocks down from Pigsy noodles.

“Is it always this loud,” Wukong smiled as he watched the table filled with little chaos.

“Like you wouldn’t believe it,” he said as he ate. “Just be glad this isn’t a holiday dinner then it really would be chaotic. Especially with everyone else that would join in,” he remembered last new year when they finally dragged Pigsy to close down the shop for one night to enjoy the holiday. It was a mad scene of chaos and energy as all of them were raving like mad lunatics even before the food came out, Ahmed and Sandy were barely able to stop Sheng, Daiyu, Tang, and Mei from setting off fireworks right next to some containers of peanut oil. And that was after MK and Mei had already demolished the kitchen with Yanyu siblings looking for the moon cakes.

“Everyone else?” He questioned as he noticed the slight smile on his friend's face.

“Oh don’t worry, stick around long enough and you’ll meet them face to face rather than watching them creepily from the distance” he shook himself out of memories.

The Monkey Sage paused, then he smiled widely, “I can’t wait then.”

“Okay, now can we learn how the hell you met Shun!” Mei exclaimed as everyone settled down in the living room. “Cause, I’m surprised you didn’t smell the crazy off of him at first sight.”

“It’s always the quiet ones that get you,” Daiyu muttered. “He seemed alright, but he was just hiding his batshit craziness.

“Right, I mean that just goes to show doc always had terrible taste in partners,” Yanyu nodded.

“Partners” Monkey King emphasized, “as in more than one.”

“Oh yeah, he has quite the number of people after his plump ass,” Minsheng smirked as they tried to smack Mac on the ass when he passed by him, but he winced when a black tail wrapped around his hand and flipped him over.

“No,” the simian deadpanned and was about to sit down next to Ahmed when Wukong pulled him over and sat him down beside him.

“Seems like you're quite popular then,” he joked and wrapped his arm around him.

“Not really popularity wise, but more of him simply having bad taste,” Sheng teased.

“I mean you're not wrong,” he shrugged as he sank into Wukong’s side.

“But how?!” Mei whined once more.

“Tell us!” MK soon joined her as he laid on Red lap.

“I’m quite interested to hear this as well,” the prince asked as well.

“Pleasseee,” Wukong batted his eyes

“Fine, fine, I’ll bite,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s not that interesting how we met, in fact, it was pretty normal.”

“What was it?”

“Amid a territory brawl over a section of land out in the Azurite Forest.”

“…okay I think we have two very different definitions

of normal,” Mei deadpanned.

“Probably, anyways I was sitting high in the tree watching these assholes argue-”

“I told you that past the Vivion Treeline was our territory and yet you dare go past that line and defy us!”

“Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you send your minions down and scavenge in our territory first!”

“You have no proof of any trespassing that happened!”

“Are you saying my own lies to my face?! HA! Now that’s a laugh to even think about, no I trust them long before I will even think about breathing in your direction!”

“I suppose it’s best you lay down and suffocate cause there is no way in hell that my boys lied to me!”

“Now ain’t that a lie!”

“That’s rich coming from you!”

“Sheesh, of course I would happen to stumble upon this right when I have to get some Fuchsia berries,” Macaque grumbled as he watched the argument from above. “Damn idiots.”

“I happen to agree,” Mac barely flinched when a calm voice called out and saw from the tree to the right of him was a gray lemur with a black and white striped tail. “I too have some important items that I need to procure, but these heathens happen to be in my way.”

“Only found in this forest,” the simian said.

“Unfortunately yes the Inada spiritual root is only grown here, if it was elsewhere I would have already turned back and away from this nonsense,” he scrunched his nose in distaste.

“I feel ya on that, the berries that I need happen to be for an elixir for the spiritual development of the 8th degree. One of my clients needs it after her body is close to breaking down due to her organs inability to support her fire breath,” he sighed as he looked down at the argument once more and noted that it would soon turn into an all out brawl.

“You're talking about the Firaga Restoration Elixir,” the lemur had a glint in his eyes. “Not many physicians know of that and even less have the ability to make it.”

“Made it a few times before…how about we help each other out?” He tapped his chin as an idea came to him.

“Go on.”

“Our items are pretty much in the same area, if we can sneak around and past the tree line then it would be homestretch from then on cause I am quickly picking up that most of the demons from each tribe are here.”

“Hmm, sounds adequate though do you believe to be capable enough to pass them undetected,” he turned to look at the monkey only to blink when he saw he wasn’t there anymore.

“Now where did he-”

“Is this good enough for you,” the lemur’s tail quickly shot towards the voice, but it was stopped by a hand. “Sorry, did I scare ya,” Macaque grinned as he held onto the furry tail.

The lemur blinked a few times before a smile grew, “It would appear that you have.”

“Well let’s get moving and the name is Macaque,” he let go of the tail, but the tail didn’t let go as it instead kept almost a loose grip around Mac's hand.

“I’m Shun,” the lemur purred as he stepped forward until their bodies were pressed together and he leaned down until they were nose to nose. “It will be a pleasure working with you.” And like he wasn’t even there, he quickly stepped back and began to move above the treetops of where the fight had commenced.

Macaque stood still for a brief moment before a fierce blush took over his face and he silently followed Shun. If both tree climbers happened to take glances at one another throughout the trip, no one would affirm anything.

“Like I said, horrible taste in partners,” Yanyu stated once more.

“Yeah, like you let him all up in your space and didn’t say a word, clearly bad,” Mei nodded.

“Like seriously, who would just go up and invade someone's personal bubble like that, totally rude,” MK joined in.

“You should have kicked his ass when he did that Mango, you have done it before,” Wukong said as he nonchalantly dragged him to his lap and rested his chin on Mac’s shoulder. “Don’t let anyone near you unless you want to.”

Everyone, barring Macaque and Wukong were either subtly or straight out eyeing Wukong, who was still cuddled up next to the black simian. They can practically taste the hypocrisy going on here.

“Okay I get it,” he put his hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t need to gang up on me like that.”

“So what happened after that?” MK asked.

“Well the rest is history, he began to hang around my place a lot more and next thing I knew we were going on dates with each other,” he shrugged his shoulders.

“Here’s what I don’t get,” Daiyu perked up, “did he ever ask you out?”

“Of cou-…” he stopped mid sentence as he thought it over then he furrowed his brow, “actually, now that I think about it, no. He never did. We were just eating out one day at a restaurant and proclaimed it to be a date.”

“Pops/Doc/Mango/Dude really,” Mei, Yanyu, Wukong, and Minsheng all groaned as the rabbit demon continued, “you really should have known something was up after that.”

“I really didn’t,” he rubbed the back of his head as he remembered he was taken aback by his statement but went with it as he did have a small crush on him back then.

“Just be glad you weren’t around to see Hui,” Ahmed said, receiving a wounded look from Macaque.

“Kitty, I thought you were on my side!”

“I am…just not when it comes to your choice of partners.”

“Even Mufasa here knows that she was batshit insane,” Bohai deadpanned, “nice and hilarious, but holy shit was she insane.”

“She wasn’t that-”

“Did you forget that she was a raging alcoholic scorpion that had the desire to go up to not only to the Celestial Realm and raid their alcohol supply, but to go down under all the way to Yama realm and claim the title of all the ten kings and live in luxury,” Minsheng bluntly stated.

“Just not Yama crown, because she stated that she didn’t want to do all of that work, not because it was suicidal to try to fight him,” Daiyu continued. She loves to fight as much as her siblings, but even she knew better than to pick a fight with one of the big boys on top, or in this case, down below.

“And I’m not even gonna mention that when she was in her drunken rage, she had the tendency to poison others with her tails when they stood opposed or even just breathed near her,” Bohai finished.

“…” Macaque said nothing as he just leaned closer to the other monkey, who happily complied with his actions as he further tightened his arm around him and silently rubbed his thumb on his shoulder.

“So much bad taste in partners, so much,” the bluenette put her head in her hands.

“I’m starting to see your point,” the pigtailed adult agreed as she glanced at the scene with a curious look.

“At least we don’t have to worry about that anymore, what I’m a bit curious about is how all of you guys met MK here,” Wukong tried to subtly move on from the conversation of Macaque’s romantic relationship. If he had to hear about yet another demon he dated, he might actually lose his mind.

“Oh let me!” MK eagerly began, “well I remember that I was sleeping when I heard Daiyu yell out.”

“Because of course it was her,” the bluenette said.

“And I walk into the room and-” as MK enthusiastically told the story, Wukong had quietly taken out the red rubber band holding his hair in a ponytail and gazed at the silky black fur cascaded down his back. And before he knew it, his fingers were entangled in Mac’s fluffy fur as the other simian sighed at the soft touches.

“Been a long time since you did this,” Mac purred as he relaxed into the grooming.

“Well it’s about time we pick it back up, besides no one is better at grooming than a monkey,” he purred, but he paused as he quietly had thought and delicately asked, “speaking of monkeys, do you want to visit the ones back at Flower Fruit?”

Mac's eyes widened as he almost instantly turned his head, but was stopped by hands, “Are you serious?”

“I mean they have missed you a whole lot,” he tried to nonchalantly say, “especially since they smelt you on the kid and was practically begging me to bring your ass over.”

“They are still demanding little shits huh,” he gave a small huff.

“The one thing that hasn’t changed.”

“…yeah I would like that,” he smiled up at him.

“Cool, cool,” he couldn’t stop his tail from excitedly wagging behind him, but he instead tried to stall it by looking at the fluffy fur once more as another purr came through. It’s not his fault he couldn’t stop it from emerging from his long time crush response and his fascination with his long fur.

“You really do have such a long fur, why’d you grow it out anyways, not that I’m complaining.”

“I dunno, I just forgot to cut it short and when I finally noticed I decided to just keep it,” he shrugged.

“Well I’m glad you did, it looks amazing on you,” Wukong said as he looked down to meet Macaque’s eyes and promptly realizing what he said, he quickly averted his gaze and nervously laughed, “Or you know, it looks good.”

“Ah, umm thanks,” the doctor said as he felt the faint blush on his cheeks.

The sage monkey was about to say something else when he noticed that a few eyes were on him and he quickly went back to his grooming session. While making completely sure that his eyes didn’t even go towards anywhere in their direction.

The traffic light trio saw the scene and they all shared a glance at one another, but opted to say nothing as the story continued and the two monkeys, in everyone's eyes, began to cuddle up together.

“Where is he?” Red huffed as he sat on the opposite side of Mei at one of the arcade booths. “Usually he’s the first one here.”

“I know he was helping Pigsy out with a large Party order, but that should have been done by now,” Mei shrugged as she took another sip of her drink.

“Well he should hurry it up else I will-”

“What’s up, party dudes!” An energetic voice cried out that instantly made Mei spit out her drink.

“Oh hell no!” She stood up as she grabbed her dagger and was inwardly cursing herself about leaving her sword at home, “I’m not about to deal with you a second time! Not today Satan!”

“Should I be concerned?” Red raised an eyebrow as he looked at MK, who was for some reason wearing a pink visor, blue headphones and an atrocious cheetah print outfit. “Cause this whole look right here is very concerning.”

“No need to worry hot stuff,” MK said as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Not here to do any lasting damage, unless you're into that,” he winked.

“W-w-what?!” A small burst of flame erupted from his head.

“I don’t trust that for a second,” the Dragon successor hissed as she still held her dagger up.

“I swearsies doll.”

“Wha-no stay focused,” she faltered but shook it off, “That is rich coming from the disembodied attachment of my friend who can just poof in and out without consequences of your actions.”

“Disembodied?” Red, still under the clone arm, confusedly said.

“Touché,” he pointed a finger, “but for real, I’m just here to deliver a message from the big boss himself.”

“Talk,” she demanded as she slightly lowered her weapon at that.

“BB will be late due to a crazy ass bitch on the block doin her usual bitch in and be all complainin about her food order being all wrong and demanding that they hand it over for free.”

“Oh,” Mei's eyebrow raised. “Bet that didn’t go over well.”

“No it did not my lovely Empress, cause next thing they knew the bitch was calling up the rest of her posse upon BB and Big Bad Boss and now she is yellin her ass about about some scam they be tryin to pull on them all.”

“I’m starting to see where this is head,” she sheathed her blade when she said that, though she did have a light blush of confusion over the nickname.

“Your thoughts be right as the next thing anyone knows, everyone is brawling with each other so hard that even some of the people on the street just up and joined in.”

“So MK got mixed up in that, but why didn’t he just text us that,” the Bull successor asked as he finally recognized that this was a clone and not the real MK.

“Cause Triple B ordered Double B to not get the food ruined under any circumstances my sweet King so now BB is hauling ass all around the town as the Karen Gang chase after his ass,” Portay MK smirked as he saw the prince blush.

“Karen Gang,” she snorted at the nickname, “Does he need any help, cause I will be more than happy to bust a few heads for him.”

“I as well.”

“Aww ain’t the both of you just a bundle of sweetness, makes me want to give you both a big ol kiss,” he flirted once more.

“Just show us!” At this point both teenagers had either a small or large flush on their faces.

“Alright Alright, I’ll show ya,” he said as he quickly made his way out of the arcade and to the streets with them both following. “But I won’t stop~ Someone got to help Double B get the ball rollin and I guess it will have to be me. This will be so much fun,” he muttered.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing my Sugar hearts!” He smiled at their groans of embarrassment.

“Is he always like this?!”

“I met him once and that was when he had me tied up during a never ending party, which I still can’t fully remember due to all the sugar and caffeine I inhaled.”

“The WHAT?!”

“Oh yeah, that was a ride.”

“Man, it’s been a long time since I’ve been here, huh,” Macaque mused as he and MK climbed up the mountain.

“Right, you lived here before,” MK said as they climbed up the steps. “What was it like back then?”

“Honestly, at first it looks and feels the same, every time that I breathe I can still smell the crisp pine air and the heavy mineral undertones that I still smell on Monkey King,” he took a deep breath. “This place really brings back some memories.”

“Good ones?” The doctor to be said with a bit of hope as they finally reached the top.

“Yeah, good ones,” he stopped as his ears pricked up at an incoming sound. “That screech,” he whispered.

“Huh?” MK looked to his Dad, only to be bombarded with the most ear piercing noise.

SCREEEEEECCCCCCHHHHHH

Then, almost out of nowhere, a hoard of monkeys all popped out and practically flew towards the black simian.

“What the-!” MK was startled by the sudden attack and was about to step forward to his Dad only to pause at the sight of multiple monkeys, all of them screeching in delight, clinging onto him as the demon joyfully nuzzled them back.

“I missed you guys too,” he purred as he felt many cuddles underneath his chin, on his back, upon his arms, even on top of his head. He really missed these idiots.

“Awwww,” the adult cooed at the adorable sight.

“Man, that was faster than I was expecting,” the student turned and saw his mentor standing right behind him. “One moment they were playing and the next thing I know they all began to run off. I swear their smell has gotten better over these years.”

“So that’s why they could smell Dad on me that time.”

“You got it,” he finger gunned him as he walked up to the pile of monkeys. “So it seems this is one-”

“HISSSSSSS!” All the monkeys clinging onto Macaque hissed at their idiotic king.

“Yeah, I deserved that,” he deadpanned as he plopped himself onto the pile, with MK following suit. “But I promise we won’t be so stupid again.”

“Ooo oo,” a female monkey crossed her arms as she sat on the monkey doctor's head.

“King honor,” he raised his hand.

“Ooo,” she nodded and gave him a flick on the nose before snuggling back on top of the head.

“She really hasn't changed one bit,” Mac snorted at her antics.

“Nope, but she is still as bossy as ever,” he smiled and gave her a scratch on her head.

“Especially when she forced me to drink water,” MK piped up, “she literally forced it down my throat after one of the sessions. I didn’t think you could drown via water bottle, but when there's a monkey there's a way.”

“Yeah, sounds like her,” both monkeys said.

The sun was beginning to set as MK and the rest of the tribe were all playing out in the mountains in an extreme game of hide and seek. Extreme as in they all will literally yeet themself off the tallest rock just so they won’t get found, the first couple of times MK played this he had to stop his heart from trying to run out of his chest, but he slowly found himself enjoying throwing himself off like a rabid maniac. Is there something wrong with all of them? Maybe, but no one can deny that it is really fun.

“I swear, their IQ always seems to decrease when they play these games,” Mac muttered as he watched his child vault himself off of a rock just so the seeker wouldn’t catch him.

“Didn’t you think of this?” Wukong hummed as he smirked when he saw his student delicately land on one of the boulders below.

“Yep and I still don’t know if I regret it.”

“I mean you did worse,” he coyly smirked.

“You don’t want to talk about dumbass ideas with me Mr. ‘Let’s just ambush the trailing cart of a tired ass deity that would happily shank up on our sleep.’” He snarked back.

“Says the one who thought it would be a good idea to toss me in the water, forgetting that my stone ass can’t swim!” He shot back, they were playing around and Macaque had the jump of him and tossed him in the river. The black simian paused at what he just did and immediately panicked and dived down after him.

“You should really think about losing a few pounds, you were heavy,” he mocked and then got promptly tackled by the other monkey.

“I’ll show you heavy, how’d you like that mushroom brain,” he teased as he began to wrestle him.

“Says you rock for brains,” he shot back as he tried to get the upper hand. This went on for a few minutes as both monkeys playfully began to wrestle each other on the ground. It ended when Wukong managed to pin him down while holding his hands above his head and wrapping his tail firmly around the others.

“HA! I win!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffed after he tried to get out after a few attempts. “Don’t get such a big head about it.”

“Aww, but you know it only does good things to my ego~,” he teased as he leaned down.

“No it doesn’t, simply it’s truly terrible.”

“It does!”

“Does not!”

“Does!”

“Does not!

“Does!”

“Does not!”

“Does!”

“Does not! Damnit!” He cursed at the trickery.

“How do you fall for it every single time,” he openly laughed.

Wukong was about to refute when he saw just how close to each other they were and sucked in a breath. He can feel his chest against his own with each breath of air, he can see the faintest shimmer of violet deep within his golden eyes, he can feel his nose touching the soft button nose of his partner.

Macaque obviously heard the intake of breath, no super hearing necessary, and was about to ask when he too stopped short. It could be from the fact that their noses were so close to each other that he could feel his warm breath, the way he could feel the muscle very clearly against his own fur, or even how his golden eyes seem to be extra bright today that he can’t. Stop. Looking.

Neither pair noticed a pair of human eyes locking onto them with a curious expression on his face as he slowly backed up.

Either way, all of those reasons are very much valid in both of their minds as a familiar silence filled the air and it felt oh so good as they just almost blend together as one. This wasn’t the usual safe cuddles that both were adjusted to, no this was something long in the making, that this was something that was more than the friend standpoint that they anchored themselves down on and refuse to step off. This was something even more than love, but the word itself is the only thing that fits what they feel for the other, and they instinctively knew that there is something more between them, something devastatingly eternal.

There can be more if they just make that step off the cliff and into the unknown air.

But not today, no not today.

Instead, Macaque put his foot back down to that safe cliff and latched on tightly as cleared his throat. “You want to get off me anytime, I kinda want to feel my bones sometime,” he managed to say. He can’t take that step, he knows he’s a coward when it comes to admitting that he actually loves Wukong, but they just became friends once more after their stupid separation and he refuses to do anything that jeopardizes it.

“Right, my bad,” he said with a fake smile plastered on as he got off him and sat beside him. He can see the air and he can feel his feet wanting to make that leap into the foggy air and see how far the two can go, but he will push down that impulse. He wants this so badly, for centuries (no matter how hard he tries to deny it) he wants to admit that he loves Macaque, but he will keep his mouth shut. His impulsiveness has already done enough damage as it is, no need to add the emotional turmoil on top of all the other shit he did to his friend.

The two of them sat in silence once more as they sat side by side to each other, totally ignoring the small moment between.

“So…what are you doing for the Lunar New Year?” Wukong asked in an effort to get rid of the silence.

“Well this year, we’re gonna spend it in the city with the others this time around. Everyone brings some food, usually, I bring the moon cakes as I have the extra hands and you can never have too many.” Ever since he had met Yanyu, who had dragged him to his first Lunar year with her family in the city, it had become somewhat of a tradition to go to the city every two years and spend time together. “What are you doing?”

“Oh you know, just gonna chill on the mountain with good food and watch the fireworks,” he nonchalantly said.

“Just by yourself,” he questioningly asked. If there was one of the many things he knew about Wukong, it was that he hated being alone on any occasion. He knew it stemmed from his own weird beginnings and his unawareness of the societal norms at the start, but it all went downhill after he was trapped in the mountain with only the bitch ass spirits keeping guard, he could only sneak in so many times before one of the guards noticed something amiss, unfortunately. (Though he quite happily stopped by when Wukong was finally free and he had quite the playtime with them, he still can’t help but grin at the sound of their screams. It was truly music to his ears.)

“Yeah,” he shrugged. It wasn’t anything new, ever since his friends have…gone, he couldn’t quite bring himself to spend the holiday with anyone other than the tribe from time to time. It just doesn’t feel right anymore…it doesn’t feel like he has the right anymore.

“Yeah, no. Your ass is coming with me to the festival,” Mac deadpanned.

“What?!” He turned his head so hard that he could almost hear his neck snap.

“You. Are. Spending. The. Festival. With. Us.” He slowly emphasized each word as if he couldn’t understand it. “Got it.”

“But-but-”

“We’re not talking about your ass here, but you are coming.”

“I don’t want to intrude, it will probably be really weird,” he tried to rebuttal.

“The group has almost twenty people and then those people will sometimes bring their friends along, the more the merrier.”

“What about how I look, cause no offense, but I don’t want to be mowed down in a frenzy to get an autograph or a picture or something!”

“We both know you have a human disguise, hell I sometimes use my own from time to time.”

“But-”

“Wukong,” he grabbed his shoulders. “You are going to come to the Lunar Festival with us.”

The monkey opened his mouth once more, but sighed and sagged his shoulder. “When have you become so demanding.”

“I learned that from you,” he smirked.

“Pfft, nahh you have always been a demanding shit even before me,” he chuckled as he laid his head on Mac's shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll join you guys.”

“Great, but if it does get too much just come grab me and we can bail to one of the rooftops,” he shifted and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

He smiled into his shoulder, “I wouldn’t mind that buttt I wouldn’t mind trying one of the moon cakes, especially if you make some with peaches in them.”

The doctor fondly rolled his eyes, “I’ll make some peach candy mooncakes for you dumbass.”

“Yes!”

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #mk #macaque #six eared macaque #monkey king #lmk mei #PlumTeaAU

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feanorianethicsdepartment · 3 years

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the last of my thoughts on the homecoming au, the au where maedhros and maglor are taken back to tirion at the end of the war of wrath and proceed to be relentlessly abused by elves more interested in them being ‘normal’ than happy. it’s pretty much exactly as dark as you’d expect from that description, lots of medical/caretaker abuse towards the mentally ill, just a horrible situation in general. one last time, @sunflowersupremes wrote the original au this is an extrapolation from, and @outofangband listened to me blather on about this for ages and contributed lots of ideas of their own. part 1 is here, part 2 is here. this the last part, it isn’t quite as intense as part 2, but it’s a lot more hopeless. also there’s some off-screen torture

on the first post i made about this au, i got some comments to the effect of ‘oh this will only last until person x bails them out’

there were several suggestions - fingon, nerdanel, any of the ainur. it seems like there are a lot of people who’d want to get maedhros and maglor out of this nightmare

seems. these aren’t necessarily my usual interpretations of their characters, but for the purposes of this au i can easily imagine a finrod who already bore a grudge over the whole letting-their-younger-brothers-steal-his-kingdom incident and subsequently heard the version of the nirnaeth where the fëanorians left everyone else to die. he is the only other person in the palace who knew beleriand, and he loathes them so viciously he can barely stand to look at them. they’re lucky he doesn’t do worse

i can easily imagine a nerdanel who was already having trouble processing what her husband and sons did at alqualondë when eärendil and elwing told her every awful thing they’d done since in the span of half an hour. she smashed all their statues, burned all their gifts, and curled up sobbing in a ruined house, wondering why she was such a terrible mother her children grew into demons

and this isn’t long after that, that wound is still fresh. whatever vain hopes she held that the boys she loved were somewhere in there are shattered when she sees them, and they’re talking and laughing just like they did when they were young

like nothing had happened. like nothing had changed. like the monsters had always been waiting patiently for their chance to strike

(they just didn’t want her to see the things they’d become)

i can easily imagine a fingon who is blazingly furious with maedhros over the later kinslayings. he spends most of their only meeting railing at maedhros, and the apologia his caretakers offer up only makes him angrier

so does the fact that maedhros won’t defend himself, won’t even raise his voice. does none of this matter to him? did it ever?

(it does. but maedhros knows what will happen if he yells at his cousin, and he is just so exhausted)

fingon is eventually asked to leave. maedhros’ minders tell him that if he can’t keep his temper around their patient, they’re going to have to cut off contact until maedhros is in a better mental state. fingon snaps that that’s just fine by him, and storms off into the city, trying to hold back his tears

the ainur, now, the ainur would definitely drag them out of the palace and haul them up to the máhanaxar. finarfin’s managed to get as much out of eönwë

what would happen to them after that, eönwë refuses to say. finarfin suspects he doesn’t know, and none of the valar will until they’ve had a chance to actually, like, hold a trial

even so, it becomes pretty obvious to finarfin fairly early on that the noldor simply can’t give the brothers the help they need. it’s plain to see that they’re very unhappy and they’re recovering slowly if at all. whatever the valar decide to do with them, odds are good they’d end up in some permutation of elf afterlife therapy, with well-practiced carers and the family they’ve lost. for their sake, and the sake of the people around them, handing them over to the valar would clearly be the best option

except finarfin doesn’t. he keeps his nephews in his palace, where they break things and make messes and generally give their caretakers constant headaches. when asked why, he always talks about the soul-deep terror on maglor’s face when he asked him not to give them to the valar

he’s not lying about that. but he does have other motives

there’s lots of suppositions in finarfin’s reasoning. there’s every chance the valar would throw them into the deepest depths of mandos until the second music. there’s every chance maedhros would choose to disappear into the woods and never trouble court again

but if the valar do decide to send them to lórien with no limits on their movement, and if maedhros does still harbour nelyafinwë’s political ambitions...

the closest finarfin has gotten to admitting it, even to himself, is saying that the noldor have enough problems right now, they don’t need a succession crisis on top of everything else. sometimes he’ll joke about not wanting maedhros to set up another functionally autonomous military government out in the wilderness

but it’s hard to deny that a maedhros, free to act, with his head screwed on straight, could potentially be the single biggest threat to finarfin’s crown

not that he doesn’t want his nephews to get better! it’s heartrending to see the pain they’re in, he sincerely wants to see them happy

he’d just prefer them to be happy in a way that's... convenient

maedhros and maglor’s contact with the outside world is kept to a strict minimum and heavily monitored when it does happen. they’re only allowed to visit the public parts of the palace when their caretakers know exactly who’s going to be there and if they can be trusted to not make a fuss about the brothers’ presence

it’s all in the interest of keeping the peace, you understand. maedhros’ followers are difficult to handle at the best of times, if they somehow got it into their heads that the last of their lords were being held captive in the palace...

well, finarfin says over tea. maitimo can see the wisdom in not provoking a civil war, can he not?

(he will not bring death to the blessed realm again. not even if his last baby brother is rotting away to a shell, not even if he’s being smothered to death from the inside out. he will not, he must not)

(if he did, there would truly be nothing left but the monster)

and then, one day, maglor gets the chance to escape

his minders aren’t paying much attention to him, he’s been a lot quieter since they put the gag on him. he’s small and fast and good at sneaking around, by the time they notice he’s missing he’s already found a way out of the palace

he jumps out of a third-floor window, bites down the pain, and runs. he clears the grounds and disappears into the city

he makes for - he doesn’t know where. subconsciously, he navigates towards the craft guild districts, where his family’s staunchest supporters always were

except the city’s changed a lot since he was last loose in it, and before he knows it, he’s completely lost. he wanders the streets half in a daze, his raw nerves unused to the bustle and noise of it all. wherever he goes, people stop and start and turn away

finally someone calls him over. ‘hey, you want that collar off your neck?’

it’s a smith of some sort, he can tell that much. they’re smiling, welcomingly and without pity. he’s rushing over to them, nodding his head, before he can even think about

the trouble is, maglor doesn’t remember the faces of most of the people he saw in beleriand, but they all remember him

the trouble is, this smith was at sirion

back in the palace, who gets access to the brothers is very strictly controlled. which isn’t to say that nobody tries to hurt them; finrod tends to put the worst spin on things when he’s asked for advice, there’s all kinds of minor acts of sabotage, and they come across innocuous-seeming harmful objects more often than mere chance would seem to allow

but even their caretakers can tell that letting desperate revenge-seekers get near the brothers wouldn’t be particularly conducive to whatever recovery they’re hoping for. anyone who might randomly come across maedhros or maglor in a hallway is intensely vetted for ulterior motives, and while this process isn’t airtight it does filter out the most obviously malicious

and outside of that bubble, none of that applies. the smith does take maglor’s gag off, purely to hear him scream

soon enough, the palace guard tracks him down. they take him back to the palace, where he’s bandaged up and comforted and then, as a special treat, allowed to see his brother

(they’re kept apart more often than not these days. being around maglor makes maedhros agitated, being around maedhros makes maglor sullen. they’re just more cooperative when they’re alone)

maglor does the same thing he’s done every time he’s seen his brother for the past year, which is immediately bury his face in maedhros’ chest and shudder. it takes him a moment to remember he can speak now

‘we’re trapped’ he whispers. ‘we’re trapped’

because he was screaming for what felt like hours, and nobody came to help. as he was being carried back to the palace, he saw the scorn and the disgust in the passers-by’s eyes

there’s nobody who will shelter them outside the palace. there’s nowhere on this continent they can go

and that - that’s the end, in a way. maedhros remains stubborn and ill-tempered, never quite letting them forget he doesn’t want to be here and doesn’t like what they’re doing, but the fight goes out of him. he does what they tell him just as biddably as he did before they took his brother’s voice

maglor, surprisingly, takes a turn for the better. he starts acting cheerful again, doing everything that’s asked of him with a smile and a wink. he’s making excellent progress, his minders tell finarfin

(they don’t tell him what maglor looks like when the mask starts to crack)

finarfin is very pleased to hear that one of his nephews is finally starting to recover! it’s been a long, painful journey, but it looks like it’s all at long last working out

to celebrate, he decides to give maglor a gift he’s been holding onto for a while

he calls maglor into his office. the tension in his posture is a bit worrying, but his expression is all makalaurë, a casual, mildly disrespectful grin. he swans into the room, flounces into a chair, and asks what his uncle wants

finarfin praises him for all the progress he’s been making, and hands him a letter

it’s from elros

the first line is ‘how are you doing, you old bastard?’ it calls him a kinslayer six different ways in the first three paragraphs. it asks him how many people he’s stabbed since he got back. it closes off by wishing him some fun loud arguments with maedhros

finarfin was a little concerned maglor still not might be in the right emotional state for it, but the tightness bleeds out of his nephew’s frame as he reads. a couple of times he even bursts into snickering that sounds more genuine than any sound he makes in court

he finishes reading with a truly relaxed smile on his face. then he freezes, and looks up at finarfin

in a tiny, quiet voice, so unlike the way he talks nowadays, he asks, ‘may i write a reply?’

finarfin hates to take the wind out of his sails, but maglor deserves to know. ‘that letter is centuries old. i’ve been holding onto it until you were ready to read it.’ he shuts his eyes. ‘i’m afraid elros passed some time ago’

maglor’s head drops. the letter in his hands begins to shake. little whimpers escape his trembling body. finarfin walks over, places a hand on his shoulder. ‘i’m sorry, we -’

that’s not whimpering, finarfin realises. those are growls. his nephew’s head snaps up, face twisted with rage

maglor tries to tear finarfin’s face off -

and that’s all i have. these headcanons have been exhausting to write, i’ll clean them up and put them on ao3 in a bit, but not now, if for no other reason than it’s 3am. again. i hope these weren’t too incoherent. going to try to unbanjax my sleep schedule now

#homecoming au #maedhros #maglor #finarfin #fingon #abuse //#mental health issues ///#torture ///#my terrible fic #it is done. at last i am done #this is the most depressing thing i've ever written #i was kind of trying to get it all out in one go #or as close as i could get with how long it turned out #i wrote most of these at ass o'clock in the morning when i really should have been asleep #i'll try to make them less midnight ramble-y for ao3 #gah. i hope the characterisation is at least functional #these feel more disconnected than i'd like but this ain't a story it's a collection of headcanons #brain has nominated my maglor's wife oc for person who could actually get them out #kidnapping one's evil husband for fun and spite!#it's either that or elrond #or they fade first #or maglor attacking finarfin spells the end of everything #... if it does i don't want to write it right now #i've thought about this au too much #please come quick with the serotonin pokemon gold for the 3ds virtual console

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7wanderingpaws · 3 years

Text

Always, Yours (1)

(gif not mine) - fluff Baek ㅠ

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

AU: professor Baekhyun, domestic AU, family AU, triplet craze AU

Genre: FLUFF

Warnings: none

This is a sequel to Simply, Yours! You do not need to read it first, but it will give you better understanding of the situation in the story.

Enjoy!

Masterlist / story masterlist

Next -->

<3 <3 <3

“Ta-da!” Sukyeong held out two coupons in front of your face, her excited smile not dazzling enough for you to mimic it. “Let's start working out!”

You were unsure right away for many reasons. First one was the squirming infants on you and on her. Juna was the eldest triplet but she had nothing on the middle one, Junhee, who was currently tapping away on the play mat made out of pastel coloured puzzles in front of the big couch in the spacious living room. Jun was the only boy triplet and the youngest. He was peacefully sitting on your lap, your palms flat on his cute baby tummy while he was looking up at Sukyeong with huge eyes that, the more he grew, the more they resembled his father's. The issue was, where would you put your munchkins while you'd be working out?

Second one was more personal and one that you felt guilty for thinking about, but you couldn't help it. Would you have enough energy to go through sixty minutes of work-out? You were still breastfeeding and pumping, by now completely accustomed to it. It made up a huge part of your day; if you didn't have the infants pressed to your breast, it was the pump attached to you, hidden under your shirt while you were running around the house, trying to get chores done while the babies would nap. Being exhausted was a given, but squeezing in more exhaustion? Doubtful.

Third one was the one that always gave you a slight headache. Travelling through busy Seoul was difficult to do by yourself with triplets. Despite living in a very good apartment at the moment, which was a kind present from the government as a thank you gift for bringing triplets to the aging society, it didn't mean your financial issues disappeared with it. Keeping up the apartment was a huge responsibility; the energies, the water, the common fees, lots of management with the apartments' committee that your husband became part of - it all required money and the lottery ticket you received and made you a billionaire quickly dispersed in your bank account. Another issue were the triplets themselves. Keeping up with them, buying diapers, clothes that they seemed to outgrow in a speed of light - it all required lots of income but there was only one source - Baekhyun, your husband.

As much as you always told him you would find a job to keep the financial stability, you could hardly find a time to sit down and go through job offers, let alone actually prepare for an interview. You knew many companies would refuse you if you as much as mentioned you were a mother.

“Oh, no, I can practically see the turning gears in your brain, mumma friend,” groaned Sukyeong and leaned in to press a loud kiss to Jun's face which in turn made him surprised. That surprise quickly morphed into a huge, toothless grin and you were fast to follow him, too. Jun was the weakest of the triplets and was prone to get more sick. He had a terrible season of harsh refluxes which made you and Baekhyun extremely worried and unhappy. Jun wouldn't be able to accept your milk, vomiting it out right after swallowing. His smiling face meant more to you than anything else in that moment.

“Auntie Sukyeong is being silly, hmm,” you cooed lovingly and you also leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. He had dark baby hair growing, and it always made you realize just how fragile these babies were. “I don't know Sukyeong,” you finally answered her. “I would love to work on my body and gain back my old one but I just can't see it happening.”

She quickly held up her hand. “Before you get into all the details - they have a little baby corner where you can leave the munchkins while we work out! And-and I would come with you! We have a car with Chen, so I'd pick you up and then we don't have to worry about travelling in an over-packed bus.”

You pursed your lips, thinking. “What time is the training?”

“I think it starts at seven in the evening!” she exclaimed and quickly took out her phone to search. “It's lots of cardio and core strengthening so it's very beneficial for you!”

“Hmm, I would have to discuss with Baekhyun,” you murmured. “He comes home late these days but I just want to know his opinion.”

“Make sure you don't get squeezed down by your hubby,” Sukyeong noted and leaned down again to look at Jun. “I know you guys are basically inseparable but he's been working so much since he became a professor. Make sure you don't become second to him over his work.”

“Well, he is the youngest ever, so I understand he wants to try his best.” You wanted to question her words - Baekhyun never prioritized his work over you or your children. He was just about to be thirty and you were just in the middle of your twenties, you didn't think you would reach that kind of crisis in your relationship yet.

“Yeah, but he doesn't have to do the hapkido training in the evening, yet he decided to do it,” she reminded gently, and touched Jun's cheek, “so you can do just the same, right? You are always with the babies and spend lots of time by yourself. You deserve to have a little time dedicated to you and, of course, me!”

You smiled but it didn't quite reach your eyes. Sukyeong wasn't wrong but you knew Baekhyun was only trying to start off his professor career as good as he could. He upped his game as a cool professor by always wearing outstanding suits - dark red, striped, the list went on. He looked very, very handsome and it sometimes even pained you to let him go to school like that. He told you it was to make sure people remembered him in the department and for his students to think he was cool; a trust-worthy professor to whom they could always turn to; a cool professor with whom they could have a good workout session in the evening and try to defeat him in hapkido. It was all great, but his work brought you back a tired husband.

“Maybe you're right. I will talk to him tonight. When do the classes start?”

“Next week! Tuesday and Thursday! I think it's the perfect timing!”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed. Your best friend could always make you giggle when you needed it. “I'll talk to him and let you know, hm?” Just as you finished the sentence, you jumped to your feet, trying to prevent Junhee from climbing over the small coffee table. “Aren't you a little wild girl? You must be after your father,” you breathed and Sukyeong laughed.

Baekhyun returned to a quiet apartment that evening. It was past eight and it meant triplets must have been asleep by then. He felt guilty right away, because he missed their bedtime. It wasn't like it was set - they woke up enough times during the night for Baekhyun to be by their side, but he still wanted to be part of the evening routine like bathing them, being next to you when you fed them, changing their nappies and their clothes. It was all the little things, but he was missing out on them.

You were lying on the couch, your eyes closed, your arm over your eyes to block the light out.

He crouched next to you, taking your hand in his. “Honey, I'm home,” he murmured gently, watching you remove your arm and smiling down at him tiredly.

“Hey, baby. Let me heat up the dinner,” you said, sitting up right away, but Baekhyun stopped you from standing up.

“Sorry I came home late again,” he said guiltitly. He brought your hand to his lips, kissing it a few times while looking intently into your eyes.

“It's fine,” you sighed and cradled his cheek. He leaned into the touch and eventually pulled on your hand to move closer to him, which you did. He met you half-way, pressing his lips to yours. He prolonged the kiss by puckering his lips several times, making little kissy noises that made you pull away and smile widely. Baekhyun immediately grinned.

“How was your day, princess? You look very tired,” he noted, slight worry etched in his features.

You shook your head and pressed another kiss to his lips. “The usual, you know it. Sukyeong was over and we talked,” you told him, and you wanted to bring up the topic of you attending workout classes when he said:

“Good, good, I’m glad she kept you company. I am in charge of some doctoral students now, so I need to lecture them over the summer break, but otherwise I made it clear that I want a full summer holiday so I can be with you more,” he informed you and nuzzled your nose.

You sighed in content. “Do whatever you think is the best, Baekhyun,” you whispered, your breath hitting his lips. Your hand reached out and tucked on his tie. “I just want you to enjoy your work.”

“I know you do but you and the babies always come first. Always,” he emphasized and this time brought both of his hands up to your cheeks and kissed you again, more eagerly. “I missed you,” he murmured and dived back in, nibbling on your bottom lip.

Humming in pleasure, you shimmied yourself closer to the edge of the sofa so that Baekhyun was crouching between your legs, your hand untying his tie. “I always miss you,” you murmured between the kisses.

He kissed you one last time and smiled. “I don’t want dinner. Let’s just cuddle, hm?” He flickered his eyes up to yours, his thumb running over your cheek. “I had a light dinner in school anyway.”

You nodded. You felt like your body weighed another twenty kilograms so you didn’t take much to convince.

After all, finishing the day a little earlier with Baekhyun by your side in the bed was always the best way to wind off. You found yourself in his embrace under the sheets, his black shirt hiked up as your arm rested around his middle.

He smooched your temple. “Was Jun okay today?” he asked quietly into the darkness of the room.

Baekhyun had texted you many times during the day to double check on his son but he still had to ask to make sure nothing happened in the short time he wasn't in touch with you.

You looked up at him. “He was okay, thank god. I hope that reflux is finally over.”

“I hope so too,” he sighed and kissed you again. “It’s so heartbreaking to know he is struggling to receive food.”

Hiding your face in his neck, you pouted against it. Everything about babies was scary. Both of you got used to them and to the crazy lifestyle but anything that would go wrong would throw you off the boat. Jun always needed special attention. “It will be all fine, right?” you murmured against his skin and as a reply, he tightened his embrace around you.

“It must be. Jun is a healthy and sturdy boy just like me, hm?” he joked.

You breathed a small laugh. “Yes, you're absolutely right.” Pushing yourself up, Baekhyun's arm loosened and he looked at you with questioning eyes when you faced him. “Actually, I wanted to ask you - Sukyeong has a coupon for these workout classes. They start next week at 7pm. I'd be away on Tuesday and Thursday for a couple of hours. Would you mind if I go for it with her?”

Baekhyun's eyes kept flickering to your lips as you spoke and you felt your heart swell whenever he looked at you like that. He finally met your eyes and brought his hand up to brush your hair out of your face. “You should totally do it if you feel like it, sweetheart. It's your body and I know you don't get to move around much when you're at home a lot. What kind of workout is it?”

You pulled a thinking face. “She mentioned core strengthening and cardio.”

“That's very good. You should definitely work on those to keep your body strong,” he advised in a gentle tone. “But just know that if it will be too hard, you don't have to keep doing it, alright? Your body is perfect and as long as you're healthy, nothing else matters.”

Baekhyun always made sure to provide reassurance even when you didn't ask for it. You smiled widely and leaned in, hugging him. You were literally splattered all over him and he brought his leg over yours to accomodate you better. “Thank you.”

He hummed and kept playing with your hair that managed to grow quite a lot in the meantime. Even though it was falling out like crazy after giving birth and your hair brush gave you a heart attack whenever you made a single swipe with it, you didn't pay it much attention. Being so busy with the kids, you hardly took notice of how you actually looked.

“What about the munchkins? I'll try to make sure I'll be home early but if I can't make it where will you put them?” he asked again.

“Sukyeong said there is a baby corner where mothers can put their kids for the time being.”

“Is it three-month-old-baby safe though?”

“I will try to contact them to double-check, alright?”

He hummed again in reply.

“You trust me with them, right?”

His hand stopped brushing your hair. “What kind of question is that? Of course I trust you with them, baby,” he replied quickly. “You're their mother. If there is anyone who knows them well, it's you.” He paused and you snuggled yourself even closer, making Baekhyun chuckle. “But you know what?” He leaned into your ear. “You'll always be my baby. My little lady.”

His breath tickled you on the ear and you laughed, even his words tickling your heart. He laughed along and he rolled you over so that he was on top. He started dropping sweet butterfly kisses all over your face and you scrunched your eyes close, emotions of love, joy, contentment making you feel like a millionaire thanks to your husband.

“You don't have anything to reply to oppa?” teased Baekhyun and smooched you under your ear. “Tell oppa you love him.” Another kiss on your neck. “Tell oppa he is the best.”

You kept giggling. “Baekhyun c'mon! Stop!”

“Not until you say what I want to hear,” he refused with a cheeky smile, kissing your lips loudly.

You gasped when you felt his hand under your shirt, tickling you on your side. You squirmed under him, trying to suppress the laughter that was making your muscles hurt. He was being a big tease and you knew he wouldn't stop until he had it his way.

“Oppa, I love you,” you told him through laughter and he stopped tickling you right away, suddenly very attentive to your words, “oppa, you are the best,” you said breathlessly, reciprocating the eye contact. “I'm oppa's baby,” you added and felt your cheeks heat up.

Baekhyun observed you with a smile. “That's right,” he murmured eventually and leaned in, kissing you on the lips. “You're oppa's baby girl,” he said in a low tone, his lips moving against yours. He captured your lower lip in a slow, sensual manner that had your insides ignite with passion. You closed your eyes and followed his lead, his kiss purely there for the sake of showing you love rather than leading to something more.

It was only nine in the evening, but it was by far the nicest time you had in a while; your triplets sleeping, your husband home and only yours until work would steal him away from you, and he did his best to make you feel loved, appreciated, beautiful and wanted.

Morning came much earlier for you. Junhee was up at three which you found quite good since they slept ever since you put them to sleep the night before and therefore enabling you and Baekyhun to have some alone time.

Quickly grabbing the intercom so that Baekhyun wouldn't wake, you went to their room, the three baby cribs and a small dimmed light welcoming you. Junhee was crying, rolling in her place which was her new favourite pastime to do since she learned how to keep her back up and straight.

“Shh, shh, sweetie, don't cry.” You took her in your hands and rocked her in your arms while you checked the remaining two infants. Jun was wide awake, his eyes looking back at you with interest which you found funny, because he didn't make a single peep, while Juna was about to follow her younger sister, her small face already scrunching up at the sight of you.

Just when you were about to reach for her while you were balancing Junhee in your other arm, you felt a pair of familiar ones on your waist, stopping you. “Let me,” Baekhyun rasped into your ear, sleepily kissing your cheek. He walked up to Juna and brought her out of her crib, the baby looking tiny on his broad chest. She started to wail just in time, and you and Baekhyun exchanged looks that spoke volumes - you would be up for a while.

There was a small corner in their room with two rocking chairs that Baekhyun insisted on buying for feeding time. While you sat down in one, Baekhyun went out to heat up some breast milk you pumped earlier, so that Juna could feed.

You adjusted your shirt and within seconds Junhee attached her tiny mouth to your breast, her eyes closing in delight as she sucked on your milk. Smiling, you made yourself comfortable and closed your eyes too, sleep quickly chasing you down.

Baekhyun appeared next to you with a bottle that contained the heated up milk and had Juna eat. Just like Junhee, Juna closed her eyes as she diligently drank, making Baekhyun's features soften with affection. He had her lying on his thighs, her tiny feet resting against his stomach while he held up the bottle for her. Occasionally, her small hand would tap against Baekhyun's long fingers which you found endearing. His index finger was bigger than her whole hand. “Jun doesn't seem to be hungry,” he commented quietly as he looked at Junhee in your arms. “Did he eat last night?”

“Yeah, he ate well,” you replied in a low voice. “I think he just isn't a crybaby,” you said with a chuckle. “These two sisters keep pushing him aside all the time.”

Baekhyun looked down at Juna. “Well, they better not. You will have to take care of your younger siblings, miss Byun Juna,” he told his daughter in a cooing voice. “So you better be a good older sister.”

You shook your head at his words and he laughed, sending you a wink. “You should go and rest, babe,” you told him after a while, “you have to get up early.”

“I'm not leaving all the work to you. We are in this together, right?” he said just as he always did. That was his iconic sentence that always made you effectively shut up. He was right, and you shouldn't have been taking away his father duties, but you knew he had a lot of work. Eventually, he would be nearing his limit and you didn't want that.

“That's more like it,” Baekhyun commented when you didn't reply.

You only managed to smile, closing your eyes again. Despite getting used to this lifestyle, it still made you feel uncomfortable how the babies would bite down on your nipple or the small cramps you'd get in your abdomen while feeding. Also-

Wetness was what made you open your eyes to look at the unoccupied breast. Before you could say something, Baekhyun spoke up: “Should I bring Jun? Or the pump?” His worried eyes were looking at the leaking milk, your shirt quickly becoming drenched.

You sighed, feeling helpless. If some mothers weren't able to produce milk, you were the exact opposite. There were times where you had to let out milk even though you already fed, even though you already had enough milk in storage for later. It kept pouring out of you and you didn't have other choice but to release it. The entire family could easily feed off of you at that rate.

It would have been okay, but the pain of dried up milk in your breasts was something you were scared of, so making sure you could let the milk flow was important.

“Can you please bring me the pump?” you told your husband absent-mindedly and Baekhyun was fast to cooperate while keeping Juna in his arms so she wouldn't be disturbed.

And just like that, you stayed up till early morning until the triplets fell back asleep - you waited for Jun to be hungry, and finally lied down when Baekhyun was getting ready for work. He even made sure the babies' nappies were fresh.

With swollen eyes, you watched as he dressed into one of his striped suits, looking like a Burberry model. He turned to look at you as he buttoned up his white shirt, his hair smoothed back, revealing his forehead. “How are you feeling?” he asked you gently, walking over to your side.

You smiled. “I'm good, don't worry, babe. Your lunch box is in the fridge, don't forget it.”

“You didn't have to prepare it,” he clicked his tongue, “just make sure you eat your food, alright, sweetheart?”

Nodding, you sighed and Baekhyun turned to put on his cardigan. “I'll be off. I'll try to come home early, hm?”

“Okay,” you mumbled, bewitched at the sight of him. “Kiss me before you go, handsome professor Byun.”

He gave a half-smile and walked over to you, leaning down so his face was hovering above yours. “Of course I would kiss you before I go. I can't leave my precious princess without a kiss,” he whispered, making you smile amorously. He pressed a sweet kiss to your puckered lips, making sure to prolong it. “Rest, okay?”

You nodded. “Another one,” you demanded and Baekhyun laughed, though complied. “Mm, I'll miss you.”

“I'll miss you too,” he sighed and pecked your forehead as a final kiss. “Text me, hm? I'll go say bye to the munchkins, too. Gotta go now,” he straightened up and gave you a smile before turning and leaving the bedroom.

You heard him shuffle around the apartment before he left for his long day at work.

Deciding to sleep until the babies would need you, you turned around and nuzzled your face into Baekhyun’s pillow, his gentle scent mixed with faint baby detergent pulling you into a fluffy cloud of dreams. That was Baekhyun to you.

A/N: Hi, welcome back to the first chapter. It will slowly all start to roll, but if you read Simply Yours, it is anything but drama after drama. Expect a similar concept too, hope you enjoyed the FAMILY in this chapter!

Thanks for reading!

Please try to comment! I appreacite likes, but a word or two never hurt! ^^

#baekhyung fanfiction #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun scenario #exo fluff #exo fanfiction #byun baekhyun #baekhyun imagine #kpop fluff #kpop imagine #kpop fanfiction #baekhyun fic #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #Always Yours #mywritings

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smaidjor · 3 years

Text

and i pay for my place by the ring (Chapter 3)

Hey everyone and welcome to the third and likely final chapter of this saga! When I was writing this, I told my friends it might end up the shortest chapter.

Spoiler alert: it was not, in fact, the shortest chapter.

Anyways, thank you guys for sticking with me through this insane journey of angst writing! The story doesn't end here, but the fic does because I think I'm going to be switching how I write it a little bit. You'll see if I ever get the energy to write the continuation.

(Also, I've stopped putting AO3 links in the actual post because then it doesn't show up in the tag.)

Anyways, enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Title: to turn at last to paths that lead home

Chapter Wordcount: 4686

Content warnings: mentions of death, violence, blood, mild injury, religion, self-esteem issues. There is also something that could be considered similar to deadnaming, though the character is not necessarily trans, so read with caution if that could be triggering to you.

Actual fic under the cut:

That night, Scott dreams he’s a child again, playing amongst the peaks with Xornoth by his side. They laugh as they dart out of his reach, and he jumps over a rock to try and catch them.

“Too slow,” Xornoth snickers, and Scott glares at them.

“Someday I’ll be ten times as fast as you, and stronger too!”

They laugh again and tackle him into the grass, forceful enough to push him down but not enough to really hurt. “Alright, little bro.”

“You’re only older by seven minutes!”

“Seven minutes, more like seven times cooler than you!”

Scott reaches up and tickles them, grinning wickedly as they yelp and roll off him.

The scene shifts, and this time it’s a teenaged Xornoth laying on the hill beside him, staring up at the sky.

“Hey, Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“If anything ever happens to me-”

“It won’t,” Scott interrupts, heart in his throat. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“It could-”

“No.”

They sigh. “Alright. But if it ever does, I need you to promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“I need you to promise that you’ll take care of Rivendell.”

Scott glares at them. “Rivendell hates me. Don’t ask-”

“Please. Scott, please just promise me this one thing.” Their face is deathly serious. “I don’t- nothing’s going to happen to me, but I need to know that Rivendell will be safe if anything does.”

"But-"

"Please, Scott. I know you would do brilliant at it, and I need the guarantee.

He sighs but ultimately gives in. “I wouldn't, but fine. I promise.”

Xornoth nods, seemingly satisfied. “You’re leaving tonight, right?”

“I am.”

“Then take this.” They roll over and press something into his hand. “You’ll need it.”

Scott looks down to see Vilya, the silver band gleaming in the sunlight. “Xor, you can’t give me this. This is-”

“I know perfectly well what it is, little bro.” He looks up to find them smiling sadly. “And I know you’ll need it. Now better wake up, your husband’s calling.”

“My wha-”

Scott’s plunged back into awareness to the sound of Jimmy calling his name.

“Scott? Please?” He sounds shaken, but it barely registers in Scott’s sleepy brain.

Scott rolls over and blinks his eyes open to see Jimmy watching him with concern. “Five more minutes, darling.”

“I think something’s wrong,” Jimmy says, urgent. “It feels wrong. Really wrong.”

That wakes Scott up, alright, the fear in his husband’s voice sending a spike of worry through him as he sits up. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. It’s alright, go back to sleep.”

“No, no, I trust your gut.” He trusts Jimmy more than anything else, really, which is why he gets up and out of bed. “Let’s go look, and if it’s nothing then I’ll sleep more, okay?”

Jimmy nods, hurrying after him. “I have a really terrible feeling, Scott. Be careful, please.”

“I should be telling that to you,” Scott teases.

“Hey, I’ve gotten more careful!”

Scott can’t help but laugh at how offended his husband sounds, but his mirth dies as quickly as it came. “You’re right, Jimmy. Something isn’t right.” It’s making the hairs on his arm stand up, a prickling unease similar to what he felt before the battle where Jimmy died.

“I know, it feels awful!”

“Mhm.” Scott grabs his favorite axe, glancing back at Jimmy one more time. “Stay behind me, just in case.”

He swings the door open. It takes a moment to spot what’s wrong, but once he does, his heart plummets; Xornoth is standing across the valley next to his enchanting tower, their face and body twisted with corruption but still unmistakably Scott’s sibling.

“That’s the demon!” Jimmy hisses. He sounds terrified, and Scott can’t blame him, much as it feels like a punch to the gut to know that his sibling is the one who’s been harassing his husband.

Scott grits his teeth. Protect Rivendell, that’s what he promised Xornoth all those years ago. “That?”

“Yes!”

“Right. Okay.” He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. “Jimmy, I need you to listen to exactly what I say right now. If I say get down, you get down. If I say run, you run and don’t look back no matter what you hear. Can you do that?”

Jimmy’s response comes a second later. “I trust you. If you say run, I’ll run.” The pure faith in the words is enough to make Scott’s throat close up for a moment, choked with sudden emotion at the level of trust Jimmy’s showing him even after everything that happened.

He shoves that feeling down. “Alright. Give me your engagement ring.”

“Wh-”

“Trust me. Please.” Scott’s nearly begging, voice cracking a bit on the last word. Jimmy must hear how weak he sounds, because he gives in without question, handing over Vilya.

Scott slides it onto his finger, hands trembling just a bit as he does. He remembers being given this ring, being just as terrified by how much Xornoth trusted him then as he is by how much Jimmy trusts him now. Ironic, really, that now he’ll be using this ring against the person who gave it to him to begin with. “Okay, Jimmy. I’m about to go out the front door, and when I do, I need you to go out the side door over there and run for the stables. When you get there, roll in the mud and then run for the village. Speed over stealth, corrupted elves track by smell and sound rather than sight.” He keeps the instructions quick and clear, praying that Jimmy’s not stubborn enough to disobey. He can’t lose Jimmy, he can’t.

Thank god, Jimmy nods.

Scott takes another deep breath, brain awhirl as he tries to figure out how he’s going to keep both Jimmy and Rivendell safe. “From there, I need you to track down an elf called Gilnar and tell them to lock down the kingdom and warn everyone of the danger.” After a moment's thought, he adds “I also need you to tell them that Lord Smajor orders them to protect you.” Gilnar’s trustworthy, they’ll look after Jimmy.

“What about you?” Jimmy asks. “Will you be okay?”

His heart aches at the concern, and it aches more when he opens his mouth to lie. “I will, I promise.” He doesn’t meet Jimmy’s eyes, knowing he’ll break if he does.

Thankfully, Jimmy says nothing about it, instead reaching for one of the spare swords. Good, good, he can protect himself.

“Ready?” Scott asks.

“Ready,” Jimmy confirms, though his voice trembles.

Scott shoves down the part of him that screams that this wasn’t supposed to be his responsibility, that he should just run while he can. He made a promise to his sibling all those years ago, and he’s going to keep it even if it’s now them that he has to defend Rivendell from.

He steps out the door.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Jimmy bolt for the stables, but the greater part of his attention is focused on Xornoth, still floating ominously across the valley.

“You do not belong here,” Scott calls out in Sindarin. It’s a challenge more than anything, practically asking them to come fight him.

He knows he’s messing with forces he doesn’t understand and cannot win against, knows it as surely as he knows his own name. Xornoth has always been faster and stronger, after all, ever since they were children.

And yet-

And yet he has to try regardless. After all, when they were children, Scott always tried to win anyways, even if it never worked. And now, the weight of an empire resting on his shoulders and his husband somewhere in the village behind him, the stakes are higher than just his pride. So he squares his shoulders and doesn’t back down as Xornoth appears in front of him with a ripple of smoke, a cruel smirk on their face.

“Well, well, well, dear brother. Never thought it’d come to this.”

“Neither did I,” Scott retorts.

They grin again. “I belong here just as much as you, you know.”

He raises his axe, gritting his teeth. “You did once, but not anymore.”

Xornoth laughs as they dart out of the way of his blows, tendrils of corruption curling around them and reaching for him. “I belong here more than you ever will.”

He stumbles back, trying to get out of their reach. “That’s not true either.”

“Oh, but it is. I thought you’d be too much of a coward to ever face me, you know. Spineless little Scott, running away from his problems like you ran away from our family.”

“We had no family left! It was just you and me!”

“And you left me to be consumed by my own greed and despair. The sibling you know died years ago and it’s all because you’re a coward.”

Scott flinches, barely bringing his axe up in time to block their next strike. “That’s not- that wasn't my fault! I didn't mean for that to happen."

“Do you really think that? Are you really foolish enough to think that you didn’t hurt me by leaving?” Xornoth’s grin is razor-sharp.

“You told me to leave if it would make me happier,” Scott cries, lapsing back into English without thinking about it.

“You shouldn’t have wanted to leave in the first place. No real elven ruler would want to leave the oldest sanctuary of the elves.”

They have him backing up again and again, barely holding them off. “I tried- I was-”

“Look at you, an elf speaking a human language,” Xornoth hisses. “How did you ever think you were going to be good enough for them? You’re never going to be the real king of Rivendell, Elinar.”

“Don’t- don’t call me that,” Scott pants.

“Elinar,” they taunt again. “Stupid, stupid Elinar. Weak, pathetic little Elinar.”

Scott stumbles backward, landing on his butt in the grass as Xornoth towers over him. His axe falls to the side, snatched by a tendril of corruption as they reach out, digging their claws into his shoulders and pushing him down. Scott’s helpless to do anything when those same tendrils reach for him, the smell of rot permeating the air. They hesitate for a moment, hovering above him, and then Xornoth grins sadistically and the corruption snatches him.

It hurts. It hurts more than any pain he’s ever felt. More than Etho’s arrow in his throat, more than Martyn’s arrow to the chest, more than Ren’s sword through his back. More than even waking up back in Rivendell. The corruption wraps itself around his throat and wrists, pinning him to the ground as his older sibling grins. Scott distantly registers that he’s screaming, writhing as he tries to get out of their hold, but everything’s fuzzy with his brain clouded by pain. He doesn’t want to die, not like this. Anything but this.

There’s a faint, familiar voice in the distance, though Scott can’t focus on what it’s saying through the haze of pain. It sounds comforting, though, and he clings to the noise like a lifeline.

All of the sudden, the pain stops and the corruption draws back slightly as Xornoth turns away.

“What did you say to me?” they hiss, in English this time.

“I said you’re ugly!” The same voice calls, and this time Scott recognizes it as Jimmy. Oh, god, Jimmy. “And you suck! Leave my husband alone!”

Xornoth loosens their hold on Scott’s shoulders, turning towards wherever Jimmy is, and Scott’s gets a rush of determination. He can’t let them hurt Jimmy.

Scott backhands them across the face, kicking his way free of their hold with strength he didn’t know he still had. They give a tiny yelp of surprise, a familiar sound, and he staggers to his feet.

This time, he doesn’t bother with the axe. Instead, he forces his will into Vilya, praying to any and every god that it will work for him. He doesn’t even believe in the elven gods any longer, and yet he’s still praying to Aeor, to Varda, to Manwe, to any deity out there that he’s enough of a true elvenking to make a ring of power bend to his will.

“You are not welcome here!” Scott shouts, and he feels the ancient strength of Vilya behind his words.

Xornoth hisses, staggering backwards. “Fine! Banish me, then, if you’re a true enough king to do it. Run back to your mortal lover, Elinar, and pray to all the gods that he doesn’t ever see how worthless you really are.”

He doesn’t flinch, though it’s a close thing. “Leave! Leave and never return!”

This time, Vilya pulses more strongly, and Xornoth is forced out of Rivendell with a hum of power.

Scott stumbles as that rush of power leaves him, collapsing to the ground. His entire body aches from the fight, but more than that, Xornoth’s last words are still ringing in his mind. Pray to all the gods that he doesn’t ever see how worthless you really are. They’re right. He knows they’re right, and that’s the worst part about it.

“Scott! Scott!” He can hear Jimmy call, and within a minute, Jimmy’s standing in front of him.

Scott looks up at his husband- his beautiful, brave husband who he’s never once deserved- his breathing ragged as he tries to reach out. “Jimmy,” He manages, a hoarse whisper.

Jimmy kneels by him, concern written across his face clear as day. “What’s wrong? Where- what’s hurt? I’ll fix it, I promise, I-” Scott grabs him and yanks him into a hug, hardly daring to believe he’s real.

“Oh,” Jimmy says, quiet, dumbstruck. He hugs Scott oh-so-gently, though his embrace isn’t enough to soothe Scott’s trembling. “It’s alright, Scott, we’re alright.”

“Jimmy,” Scott gasps. He needs his husband, needs him to be okay. “Jimmy, I can’t.”

“I-”

“I want it to be over.” It sounds so childish, but he’s so tired. “I don’t want elves or nations or politics. I just want you.”

“I know, I know,” Jimmy soothes.

‘Why does it have to be me? It wasn’t supposed to be! It wasn’t supposed to be me!” Scott wants to shout it, scream it to the world, because it’s not fair. He wasn’t supposed to be heir to Rivendell. He wasn’t supposed to have a ring of power. He wasn’t supposed to be forced to fight his own sibling. It’s not fair, but it happened anyways. It happened anyways, and that’s what breaks him, voice cracking as he begs for something, though he doesn’t even know what he wants at this point. Peace, maybe. Happiness. “I- please- shouldn’t have- Jimmy. Jimmy .”

He repeats Jimmy’s name over and over, searching for any small scrap of comfort as his sobs tear him to pieces, clutched in his husband’s arms on the grass. Jimmy’s so gentle with him, his embrace so kind as he presses soft kisses to Scott’s head and murmurs in a comforting tone, though Scott’s too far lost in his own head to hear any of what Jimmy says. His world narrows to warm arms around him, the texture of Jimmy’s shirt clutched between his fingers. Jimmy smells like dirt and swamp water- it’s the silliest thing to notice when Scott’s busy sobbing over having to fight his own sibling, but it’s easier to think about than anything else. It’s easier to think about Jimmy than anything else, really, easier to cling to the sound of his voice and his hand on Scott’s back than confront the way Scott’s grief is eating him alive.

Distantly, he can hear footsteps approaching. They’re too light to be anything but elven, not that that’s a surprise when they’re in the home of the elves. He can’t bring himself to lift his head and face them, not when his breath is still coming quick and ragged.

Gilnar’s first to speak, hesitant concen leaking into their words. “Uh, milord?”

Scott can feel Jimmy’s grip tighten protectively, can practically imagine his affronted look as he opens his mouth to snap back. “Give him a goddamn minute! He just fought a demon for all of you, let the man rest! I know you’re all elves and you’re all- all elegant and composed or whatever, but you can’t expect someone to be perfect! We’re all human, you know!” He winces a little, knowing the elves are going to tear Jimmy to shreds for that.

Indeed, one of his advisors speaks up, disdain clear in their tone. “You are human, Codfather. We are not. Lord Smajor knew the responsibilities and difficulties of ruling.”

It’s ever the way of elven royalty- their rulers cannot dare be flawed.

“He’s too young for this,” Someone else mutters. There’s as much pity in their tone as there is disdain, a strange mix of concern and derision.

“I- well I don’t think anyone could have expected a demon! And probably even less people’d be willing to fight one!” Jimmy’s voice rises with every sentence. Scott wants to tell him to spare the outrage- he’s not worth it. “Scott’s one of the bravest, kindest, smartest people I know, so lay off him, will you?”

“You know nothing of the affairs of elves,” his advisor sniffs, and Scott’s blood boils at how rude they’re being to Jimmy.

It’s that outrage that gives him the energy to raise his head, forcing his breathing to steady out. “It’s fine, Jimmy. They are correct, I do have responsibilities.” You shouldn’t be defending me, he doesn’t say. I’m not worth your outrage.

“They can’t expect you to be perfect,” Jimmy argues back.

Scott almost laughs, knowing full well that they can and should. Instead, though, he breaks free of Jimmy’s embrace and gets to his feet with far more effort than that should really take. “Gilnar, get the village out of lockdown and make sure people are aware of the threat of Xornoth. Celebear, search the library for any books on corruption of elves, and Lauriel, translate any you find that are not Sindarin into it. Elder council, I need research done on any rings of power that are strong enough to counteract Vilya to that degree, that will narrow down what Xornoth has.” His voice comes out hoarse, and he’s barely aware of what he’s saying, but he forces himself to carry on. “Now, the Codfather and I need to negotiate wool and fish trades,” Scott adds, the quickest excuse he can think of. He grabs Jimmy’s hand, dragging him away as quickly as he can manage, and ignores the stares that follow him.

They make it up the hill and into Scott’s house before Scott’s legs give out, sending him into a chair with an undignified thump. “Well, fuck me to the End and back.”

“Are they always like that?” Jimmy sounds more concerned than anything.

“Pretty much. Gilnar’s okay, just tough as shit, and so are Celebear and Lauriel, but...I wasn’t- well, I wasn’t meant to inherit Rivendell, and the Council of Elders takes every opportunity to remind me of that fact.” That’s just how it is- he doesn’t bother getting upset over it at this point. He’s always going to be second-best.

“Oh.” Jimmy hesitates, and then asks “Who’s Xornoth?”

Scott would be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified of Jimmy’s reaction, but he has nothing left to lose, so he laughs bitterly and answers honestly. “My twin, also known as the demon that’s been terrorizing you.”

“What?”

“My twin. My older sibling.” He gives another little laugh. “The person who was supposed to inherit the throne of the elves.” Who was better than Scott in every way.

“What?” Jimmy sounds shocked and confused, but not angry, not yet, so Scott elaborates.

“Let me start from the beginning. My parents were two elven monarchs, one of the Sindar, and one of the Noldor. With other bloodlines mixed in, but the Sindar and Noldor is the important bit since those two groups haven’t always gotten along. Somewhere around fifty-five years ago, they started trying for kids. What they didn’t expect was that Xornoth and I are identical twins, only the fifth set of elven twins ever recorded.” Old legend says that elven twins are only born in times of great conflict, and Scott can’t exactly say it's wrong.

“Whoa.”

“Mhm. Xornoth was- is- technically the older one, who was always set to inherit the throne of the elves and unite our divided people. They were compared to Elrond, wise and powerful leader of another land named Rivendell far in the past, and I was Elros, his twin. Impulsive, snarky, human.” Scott spits the word a bit like a curse, not because he hates humans, but because he hates himself and all the ways he’s too much like them. He closes his eyes against a fresh set of tears, blinking away the memory of Xornoth’s face when he left Rivendell. “Our parents died when we were both quite young, and we were brought up expecting Xornoth to take the throne as soon as they came of age. I spent my time hanging out with mortals, instead, getting involved in things like mcc and 3rd life.”

“Ohhh,” Jimmy says intelligently. It’s such a Jimmy way to react to something so serious, Scott might laugh if the mood were lighter.

“When I was the elven equivalent of seventeen or so, Xornoth gave me a ring. This ring, specifically.” Scott taps the ring that’s still resting on his middle finger, feeling it hum in return. “Vilya, an elven ring of power. They told me to leave Rivendell and not return.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know at the time, but they were being corrupted by a ring of their own, not to mention their own desire for power.” Scott feels Jimmy take his hand, and looks up to see gentle concern written across his husband’s face. He has to blink again, turning away and forcing his voice to stay steady. “I returned after coming of age while away to find that Xornoth had fled and I was now the heir of Rivendell. Which absolutely no one wanted.”

“Why not? You’re amazing!” Jimmy protests. He sounds so very sincere about it, which makes it all the more heartbreaking how utterly wrong he is.

“Remember when I told you that I’m not a very elven elf? That. I’m too human for their tastes, spend too much of my time with humans.”

“Well, I think you’re wonderful.”

Scott squeezes his hand tight, letting a little of his fondness show. “Thank you, Jimmy. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Something like confusion flashes across Jimmy’s face, and then he opens his mouth again. “Wait. Scott?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Did you give me an elven ring of power for an engagement ring?”

Scott looks away again, his cheeks heating up. “….Maybe.”

“Me! You gave me, little old Jimmy Solidarity, an elven ring of power?” JImmy’s half-laughing, but the sentiment behind the words sounds real. Too real, Scott thinks; it’s as if Jimmy doesn’t know just how incredible he truly is.

“You’re the most precious thing in my life,” Scott tells him, and he means every word. “I gave you everything I could offer.”

It’s kind of adorable how quickly Jimmy flushes, his face going red and his voice rising an octave. “Stop that!”

“Stop what?” Scott asks- perfectly innocently, mind you.

“Saying that stuff and giving me that look, you know what I mean!” He definitely doesn’t. “That soft one that- that makes me all blushy and stuttery!” Jimmy adds, and Scott grins a little. Jimmy’s just too fun to fluster.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he denies, though he’s sure his smile is giving him away as less innocent than he claims.

“I’m trying to scold you for giving me a ring of power that’s super important, stop- stop flirting, for goodness sake!”

“You’re hot when you’re flustered, though.” Scott barely restrains a yawn from slipping into his voice, trying to wipe some of the blood off his face so it’ll stop getting in his eyes.

“Let me get that,” Jimmy offers. Scott’s too tired to protest his fussing, letting Jimmy dab at the cut with a wet rag and bandage it. Jimmy moves on to cleaning out smaller cuts and scrapes, then the bruises, handing Scott some ice to put on the largest ones. It’s sweet, really, how fussed he is over even the smallest injury. Scott doesn’t think he deserves Jimmy taking care of him this gently, but he can’t bring himself to push him away.

Even if it is a bit annoying that Jimmy’s making him do math to check if he has a concussion. “Ninety-two, ninety-one, I swear I’m fine, Jimmy,” Scott huffs, “Ninety, eighty-nine, eighty-eight, eighty-seven, I literally explained elven rings of power to you, eighty-six, eight-five, can I stop counting now?”

“No.”

“Jimmyyyyyyyy.” Scott must sound like a whiny child, but he’s tired.

“Just a bit more? For me?” Jimmy asks. And oh, that bastard, he’s giving Scott the face that Scott can’t ever say no to. Bastard. Absolute bastard. Scott won’t give in, he won’t.

That determination lasts all of ten seconds before Scott sighs and gives in. “Fine. Eighty-four, eighty-three, eighty-two…”

Jimmy makes him count all the way down to seventy and then multiply together thirteen and twelve, which Scott doesn’t hesitate to whine about

“I can’t believe my own husband made me do math.”

Jimmy’s laughter is worth every second of the math, actually, Scott decides as his husband bops him on the nose. “I’ll make breakfast to make up for it?”

“You better!” Scott tells him. He’s trying to sound affronted, but it just comes out fond, much to his exasperation.

Jimmy laughs again and sets about making pancake batter, which Scott doesn’t hesitate to steal bits of even when Jimmy scolds him for it. It’s peaceful, being able to lean back in his chair and laugh when his husband tries to scold him for flirting. The morning light streams in through his window, casting the side of Jimmy’s face in a golden glow, He looks so alive silhouetted like that, a grin splitting his face and bits of flour in his hair. Scott’s breath catches for a minute just looking at him, the familiar ache in his chest returning, though there’s nothing truly tragic about the scene before him.

He shakes that off when Jimmy offers him the first pancake, shoving thoughts of the future aside. For now, he’ll drink hot chocolate in a sunlit kitchen and pretend his hands don’t tremble just enough to nearly spill it. He’s not going to think about the cuts and bruises scattered across his body, not when Jimmy is looking at him like that, with such utter adoration that Scott can barely believe his luck. How did he get a husband so sweet and warm when he’s as bitterly cold as a Rivendell winter? But whether he deserves it or not, Jimmy’s right there laughing along with him, and Scott can’t find it in himself to be unhappy about it.

This won’t last, he thinks as he watches Jimmy try to fit an entire pancake in his mouth just to see if he can. If Jimmy doesn’t die to his own idiocy or the cruel will of Xornoth, time will take him from Scott as surely as the stars shine above Rivendell. Scott is not Luthien or Idril or Arwen, the elven royals lucky enough to spend the rest of eternity with their mortal husbands; Jimmy will die, likely sooner rather than later, and Scott will be alone with the cold weight of a crown to bear and no sunshine to warm him.

This won’t last, but Scott says nothing of it, sipping his hot chocolate and smiling a little sadly into the mug as Jimmy rambles about different types of fish and their personalities. And if his hands are still cold, and he can’t stop a small shiver? Well, Rivendell has always been a cold empire, hasn’t it?

#scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #elf ocs #empires smp #flower husbands

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