#Milk murder attempts and bonding | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ahmedmootaz · 4 years

Note

For the writing, How about some fluff between Donald and the kids? :)))

Dear Anonymous,

Hello! I did it! Hah! Take that, laziness, I wrote the thing someone requested!...Yeah, sorry about that. The whole delay. Both to you and to everyone who kindly sent me requests. As said before, short things aren’t my style, so I hope you enjoy this!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26468854

Do share your thoughts with me, if you would so kindly do that. I like receiving feedback.

Oh and for those of you that don’t want to go to Archive Of Our Own, here’s the magical Read More button:

Ah, McDuck Manor. It was a wonderful place, really. Its rooms were almost endless, the hallways spanned on for miles, and the collection of mostly lethal items and antiques that got expanded every other day certainly made it unique in a sense. It was where Donald Duck had spent most of his childhood, and it was often a pretty, if empty place.

Perhaps this was how monarchs envisioned their castles. Spotless, massive, elegant. Or perhaps this was...this was...oh, forget it! He wasn't good at descriptions anyway. What mattered was that this manor was large, expansive, eye-pleasing, and basically was everything Donald never had for the last twelve or so years. Though it was rather lonely at times.

Not the current times, however, as now it was privy to the footsteps of little paddles running around in it all the time, and Donald couldn't be happier about it. After all, who wouldn't be happy seeing his favourite little nephews running around happily in their new home? He still used his house-boat, admittedly for no real reason other than how hard he worked to get it, but the children were more than happy to stay in their new home, a castle in comparison to where they lived before.

Of course, Donald didn't get to see the kids much these days, what with their mother returning and all. He still couldn't believe it. Twelve years. Twelve years stuck on the moon because of a giant termite just had to rattle a dust storm. He honestly had to admire his sister's ability to not murder the thing and whatever hellspawn it had the moment she could. He would've. Maybe. Probably. He was still prone to fits of rage, but he felt the rage would've been justified at that moment.

Disregarding that, it was truly miraculous how the triplets loved Della so much. Duh, she was their mother, but they never saw her for twelve years. Not one single time. To them, she was the ghost they never asked questions about or he'd just remain silent and give whoever asked a glare. He truly feared that they may never get used to her as family. Luckily, however, a few near-death experiences and some adventures later, they learned to love her as what she truly was: Their mother.

At first, it alleviated some stress off of him, but then he realized he still needed to remain as mentor, not to the children, but to Della. She was doing a fine job, learning when to discipline and when to let things pass, but he still had to intervene to stop her from convincing Huey that crossing a piranha-infested river wasn't all that dangerous.

Still, whatever critiques he gave Della, his beloved sister had grabbed the boys' attention for the time being. He couldn't blame them; both as someone new and the person they longed for their entire lives, she was certain to outshine Donald as the parental-figure for the moment, something that he absolutely had no issues with. No issues at all. Nuh-uh. What, was he fifteen? He could handle being outside the lime light for a few weeks. Months. Whatever it took.

-"Yep...no issues whatsoever...", he mumbled to himself, listening to his distorted voice as it plopped unceremoniously with no echo. He was sitting in his house-boat's living room, situated in Scrooge's pool. He had to swallow quite a bit of ego to bring the boat this far, not because it necessitated Scrooge's help, oh no, that was the easy bit. The difficult bit was seeing the fact that his uncle's swimming pool was bigger than the boat he struggled to purchase.

Well, whatever. He could handle that. He handled many other situations that jabbed at his ego and you didn't see him crying. Not on the outside, anyway. He tapped rhythmlessly on the couch he sat on, sighing as he did so. Today was a slow day. A very slow day. No adventures, nothing that needed fixing, and Della seemed like she wasn't intent on putting herself in a life or death scenario, oddly enough. He was supposed to be happy about that, but honestly, it just bored him to death.

It wasn't as if the kids somehow left him and only sent him greeting cards, either. They, alongside Webby, saw him everyday, talked with him, but somehow...he felt like a third wheel. He didn't want to force himself in, but even if he wanted to, what would he do? He never had to go to the kids, they always went to him. He was watching something on his T.V. and trying to focus on it. It wasn't Ottoman Empire, surprisingly enough, it was something about...Uh...The African Penguin's migration to the island of Mayotte to save the world from the evil Lepoard Seals...? He rechecked the program. Ah. It was a movie. And here he was thinking it was a documentary.

Donald was a fan of movies. He really was. But today, he wanted to move and do something. Anything He thought about that last sentence for a split-second before deciding he'd do anything that isn't life threatening. Last thing needed was for Scroo- sorry, Unca' Scrooge to somehow read his mind and send him down the Mariana Trench to search for some old treasure. He still needed to remember that he was living with his uncle again, and as such, politeness was due. Even in thought, because you never know when you'll think out-loud.

Knock Knock KNOCK!

He suddenly jumped. Well, not quite, he still ended up on the couch again, but he turned off the television, wondering if Mrs.Beakly was going to tell him he accidentally put an omelette on the mansion's cooker and then headed for his house-boat. He really didn't need to spend the afternoon putting out a fire before it reaches some mysterious artefact that shouldn't be touched. Not again. But at least it'll be something to do. He took a few quick steps, turned his door knob and opened it as quick as he could.

-"What is it, Mrs.Beakl-", he started, having thoroughly convinced himself that this was the situation before noticing nobody was in front of him.

-"Down here, Unca' Donald!", huh. How odd. She lost height and lost her deeper tone. He moved his head down, suddenly realizing the past conclusion was probably made by some part of his brain that decided intelligence is for losers. The red hues immediately told him all he needed to know. It was Huey, accompanied by Webby, an overexcited smile on her face and her eyes practically glowing. She was cute, but also...unnerving?

-"Oh, Huey.", he brought a hand to his forehead, suddenly feeling very relieved he was not going to spend an afternoon putting out a fire. "What brings you here? Do you need more information on the Marines? The Navy?", he asked, bringing a smile to his beak.

Admittedly, his time in the Navy was cut short because his sister suddenly disappeared into space, swallowed by the unknown dark abyss, and so he never really got to experience most of the...fun action the Navy got itself into these days. Still, he had enough knowledge to satiate Huey's thirst for information, and Webby's too, if the way her pupils dilated was any proof. He felt smug; he still had it in him.

-"Well, not really, I needed some help inside the mansion. I need someone to hold me some test subjects so that I can confirm whether or not the temporal anomalies the building sustained throughout the time changed the surrounding gravity or not. It would certainly explain why I've been having difficulties with liquids far more often now.", the younger Duck started, losing himself in an explanation that Donald tried to simplify into simpler terms. Huey's intelligence was most certainly gained from his mother's side. It wasn't that Donald was dumb, per say, it's that Huey was smart. Too smart for any duck his age.

-"Okay then.", the older Duck replied, happy to be of help. He took a few steps forward, closing the door behind him. Expecting a nod of acknowledgement from Huey, it was Webby instead who started speaking.

-"Hello Mr.Duck Unca' Donald sir!", she jumped in front of him, somehow managing to stick the landing and continue on walking backwards. Donald loved Webby. He truly did, as any responsible adult would love a girl her age with such a bubbly personality, but he couldn't ever shake off the feeling that there was something a little...off in her. He always shrugged it off as her superior training, and so he did at this instant. He wasn't one to make the poor girl feel alien, she already had difficulty with everyone else. "While we're on our way to test the stability of the mansion, do you mind telling me what the world's greatest adventurer did in the Navy? How many bad guys did you beat up? Did you have to stop Glomgold or Magica in the Navy? Did you fire guns? Are dreadnoughts still in action?", she shot question after question at the overwhelmed sailor as they entered the massive house.

-"Well...uh...I mean, they still have battleships. We don't have dreadnoughts.", he began, following Huey to the triplets' room. "As for my work...I had training. Aim-improvement firing sessions. I think I had an encounter or two with those chumps in The Navy, but it didn't really change anything; they still lost, after all.", he boasted, taking in Webby's amazed glare as he entered Huey's room, having gone up the stairs that lead to it.

-"Alright Unca' Donald, hold this tube for me, alright? Tell me if anything happens to the water inside it.", the cap-wearing duckling handed the former-sailor a tube of water. He was expecting it to be a bit more...interesting, but as he stared at it, he found nothing. Just a tube of water. "Now this could take anywhere from an hour to two, so if you think you can't do it-"

-"What? Pffft, of course I can do it! I can do anything!"

-"That's mom's catchphrase.", a lazy voice announced from his bed. It would've made Donald jump had he not been used to it. It did, however, ruin his dramatic affirmation.

-"Well, yes, but since I'm her twin, I have the right to use half of the things she says, Louie.", his uncle answered, not without some dignity. The hoodie-wearing duckling slowly rose from his bed, laying his laptop beside him as he stared at the sight unfolding in front of him.

-"Do you have legal documents for that? Because I believe you may have just broken a copy-right agreement, which could allow one to sue for monetary compensation...", of course, con-man that he is and trying to be sharper than the sharpies ever since Unca' Scrooge told him he can be, would find a method to make money out of this. Well, he was certainly impressive, Donald gave him that. In fact, every one of his nephews was impressive in his own way. But Donald also had methods to impress people.

-"Your mother still doesn't know why the gas pipes exploded two weeks ago.", he bluntly stated, and yet his nephew kept a wide, if forced smile.

-"Yep, that'll be all the documents I need. By the way, do you really want to teach your cute little nephews how to blackmail?!", he obliged, feigning shock at the end of his sentence.

-"Louie, I have literally learnt how to blackmail from you. Also, isn't it blackmail if you threaten me with a lawsuit for a catchphrase? I don't really think that has much legal basis.", came the reply, shutting down the last argument the cunning duck could hold onto.

-"Yeah, okay, fair point.", and that was that. For the moment, anyways, Louie would always fund something to argue with, and Donald would just have to find a counter-argument. Somehow. It has gotten a bit difficult these days, but Donald loved a good challenge. Well, actually, he didn't, but he dealt with them all the same.

-"Any new results, Huey?", the perky, energetic voice of Webby asked as she ran around, fixing some tubes and...balls attached to ropes? It was only now that he realized how unconventional the contraptions Huey set up looked. It was basically gears, nails, and various building materials cobbled up together to make a sort of...measuring device? And that was the least worrying one; the entire room was filled with makeshift machines of all shapes and sizes.

-"Nothing yet...If you could steady your hands Unca' Donald, that'd be great.", he said absently, prompting Donald to turn the tube in his hand a few centimeters. Well, he went from doing nothing and watching T.V. to doing nothing while watching his nephews. That had to amount to something.

-"Wow, you're really just going to stand there for Huey so he can prove that it wasn't his super shaky hands that made him spill the milk this morning, aren't you?", the smugly lazy voice of Louie called out, now under Donald. He'd heard him going down from his bed.

-"My hands are *NOT* shaky, Louie!", the older triplet yelled, outraged by such preposterous claims.

-"Okay, Doctor Butterfingers.", his sibling teased, keeping a neutral face. Donald knew that was what got to Huey; the teasing, he could somewhat handle, but Louie's lack of expressions simply made his mockery get to Huey more easily. Luckily for the inhabitants of Duckburg, Duck War One-Thousand and Whatever could wait, as Donald was there to interfere. For now.

-"Actually, I will. It's a bit unwieldy, but I'll do it for the greater good!", there. A nice, dramatic statement, that should prevent the 'Do you really want to say that' ultimatum. Man, he really had to be a diplomat someday.

-"I don't think you'll call it the greater good when Huey realizes he just has butterfingers.", the little schemer whispered to his uncle, and suddenly, a very dark future flashed in front of his eyes. Well...all in time, he supposed. "Still, I guess you must really have one heckuva patience to just keep holding this tube.", he continued, this time a bit louder before adding under his breath 'uselessly'.

-"Well, yes, I am the most patient person in the world, no? I couldn't dream of starting fights with even the most annoying of people.", the older duck proudly claimed before making an expression that clearly told Louie to shut up about the four-digit number of times he lost his temper. It was better than being five-digits, at least.

-"Yeah, yeah, whatever.", the green-wearing duckling dismissed without second thought before picking up his sentence. "Still, I guess the mad scientist over there has reason to trust you; you are pretty reliable."

-"Aw, Louie-"

-"Extremely reliable in fact!", Huey intruded on their chat, lifting his head from the calculations he was calculating. "I mean, really. Unca' Donald was there for us the entire time; remember that one time in the house-boat when the plumbing stopped working all of sudden and you tried going to the-"

-"Please, for the love of all that is Holy, remember any other time I was useful. Just not....that!", the once-calm sailor begged, his voice filled with dread and his eyes going blank. Well, that's untrue; he still had pupils, but he just wasn't...there. Lost in his flashbacks. The Great Toiletening. The horror.

-"Oh, right...forgot that we don't talk about it...well, either way, all I'm saying is that we really do appreciate what you do! Even if we never really talk about it. Or thank you.", the smarter duckling reflected, bringing a hand to his beak.

-"Well, it's the thought that counts!", Webby chimed in, positive as always. She was right. To an extent. A lot. Okay, maybe she was right, but Donald didn't have to let her know. He wasn't a mind reader, and so he appreciated whenever people spoke their mind to him.

-"I mean, yeah, she's got a point, doesn't she, Unca' Donald?", ah, Louie. Every time Donald thinks he cannot get any more smug, he goes and proves him wrong. "But I guess I should say thanks for everything. Even though you didn't buy me that self-refiling can of Pep Gyro offered...Hey!", he objected as his uncle ruffled his head-feathers with his free hand, a smile on his beak.

-"It was going to go evil and try to strangle us in our sleep and you know that.", he bluntly stated, keeping his smile.

-"I still think it was worth a shot.", the con-man replied, moving towards the room's door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a new method of getting richer than Uncle Scrooge, and I'll be accomplishing it by six in the evening.", he declared, opening the door to a beaten Dewey. "Dewey.", he nodded, passing by him.

-"Louie.", his brother nodded in return, waiting for him to close the door behind him. He looked horrible; a few scratches scattered on his face, his feathers were pointing in all directions, and his left eye felt less...firm than the other. "How much to you guys want to bet we'll have to save Louie from a demon or something by six?", he asked, pointing with a thumb to the door behind him.

-"What on earth happened to you, Dewey?! It's not even three in the afternoon and you look like you crawled out of the grave!", Donald yelled, heading over to the energetic duckling, almost spilling the water in the tube. "Are you okay? Can you see with your left eye? Did you disinfect the wounds?", he shot question after another, trying to judge the severity of the injuries with his free hand.

-"Yeah! What happened to you, Dewey?! Don't you know that the demon-scheme was last week? This week it's the 'Try-to-trick-a-rich-man-scheme'! We'll probably have to discuss some silly law-whatchamacallit with a bunch of angry lawyers by five at most!", Webby happily corrected him, looking just a teeny bit oblivious to Donald's source of worry here.

-"I'm fine, Unca' Donald. It's nothing big, mom was just...y'know. Doing mom stuff. Teaching me how to fight with the wilderness of the forest. It's no biggie.", the daring duck tried to deflate his uncle's worries, waving his hand nonchalantly, as if this was some regular occurrence he had to deal with. He failed.

-"Your mother took you to fight the wilderness?!", he repeated, grabbing his nephew's shoulder with his spare hand and trying to keep the other tube balanced.

-"Oh, come on, Unca' Donald, it's just basic stuff to learn!", he argued back, trying to shrug his shoulder before he winced from the act with an 'Ow!'.

-"Wha- Is your shoulder hurt? Did you encounter bears? How did you fight them?", he kept asking, barely giving the self-proclaimed adventurer any time to breathe.

-"I-It's nothing, just a bad landing, that's all. I mean, we were fighting bears, wolves, and flying beavers with nothing but our wits and bravery, the Heros of the For-Hey!", he tried to finish his sentence, only to be dragged by the sailor to his bed and forced to sit on it.

-"Oh, what am I ever going to do with your mother!", he grumbled, taking the first-aid kit they kept under the bed for emergency situations and trying to manipulate it with his one hand. "She just...she just thinks it's some jolly old fun to bring you over like it's nothing! Like you'll just bounce back from a fifty-meter jump and be okay!", he kept ranting himself as he took out some bandages and started unpacking them before heading to Dewey and starting to cover his wounds.

-"Heeeey! I told you I was fine, Unca' Donald.", the duckling huffed, unable to resist his uncle's medical aid as he kept putting bandages wherever he could reach. "And...Mom's trying her best, you know. No reason to get all mad, y'know...", he added, looking both offended and embarrassed.

-"I know she is.", Donald softly mumbled, putting the last of the bandages. Dewey's face wasn't too far from a mummy at this point. "It's just...sometimes her best isn't the best for everyone, and it's not her fault but...I'd rather you don't get mauled by a bear, Dewey.", he explained, taking a step back and paying attention not to let the tube in his hand tilt. Last thing he needed was to stand there again holding a tube full of water because the first one got spilled.

-"Yeah...me too, I guess.", he conceded, rubbing his arm and trying to chuckle. Donald responded in kind, trying to make his nephew be more at ease. "But she's so cool whenever she does it. How she kicked that bear and then it just turned over and winced in pain.", he dreamily recounted, looking to the ceiling before coming back to reality.

-"She kicked a bear and it just turned over?", Donald repeated, baffled; he knew his sister was strong, but weren't bears made for fighting harsh fights? Layers of fat and all that?

-"Well, I didn't get to see the fight in all its glory, but all I saw was that she flipped over the bear, managed to go behind him, and then she...kicked...", the young adventurer clenched his fists, enthusiastically recalling what his mother did until the realization dawned on all of them. 'Oooooh', was all he and Donald could say for a minute.

-"I don't understand. What did she do?", Webby asked, tilting her head as she carried some machines around the room.

-"O-Oh, it's nothing, Webby. Nothing at all.", he was lying through his teeth. Donald knew she knew. But as long as he wasn't the one who needed to tell her, all was going to be fine. "Ahem...Regardless of her strategies, you're not going to be your mother in one day, Dewey. De-, uh, sorry, your mom is an extremely talented person, but she also...slips. She needed years of broken bones, internal injuries and other injuries to reach where she is now. All I'm saying is that you can learn it all from her the easy way without breaking your neck. I know, not very fun to you,", he paused to add under his breath 'somehow', getting a glare from Dewey, "But it's what I think is better. You don't have to prove anything to us, you know.", he finished both talking and applying some extra bandages, looking at his nephew.

-"I can't promise anything; I can and probably will dew anything.", the blue-shirted duck began, receiving a sigh, "But it makes enough sense. I guess I don't have to be the star of every adventure, but...eh. Maybe I can sit back sometimes. The world needs a break from my awesomeness from time to time.", he finished, flashing his titular proud smile and forcing Donald to hold a smile, making the former's smile drop a bit. Oh, the world needed a break from Dewey alright. Just not for those reasons.

-"Yeah, Unca' Donald has a point, mom means well, but a bear's teeth are stronger than good will.", Huey added, though almost absently as he kept tinkering with the various machines throughout the room and re-reading his notes, as proven by his late response. "This just...this just...It doesn't add up! NONE of these numbers add up! The conclusion...it's wrong! Incorrect! It...It...", he yelled, almost unable to form a coherent sentence at the end. Oh, no. He was going into another rush of his. "Show me the tube, Unca' Donald!", he ordered as he made his way over to his older relative, who tried to remain calm. He did not succeed too well.

-"Uh, Webby? Did...did Huey take some sugar? What's going on in here?", Dewey asked the enthusiastic young duckling, who followed Huey to the triplets' bed.

-"Oh, it's nothing. Huey's been researching the surrounding gravity of the mansion to make sure it didn't change gravity or anything after it nearly got destroyed a couple dozen of times with us inside it!", clenching her fists and raising them to the air, her enthusiasm would've been infectious if Huey didn't look on the brink of a meltdown.

-"Riiiiight...", the blue-shirted triplet processed as his brother practically ripped the tube from his uncle's hand. "And he's doing this becauuuuse...?"

-"Oh, well, he spilled his milk this morning.", she immediately answered, reflecting on her words. "Yeah, not the best incentive, but it's for the greater good!", she confidently boasted, turning to her research-partner. "Right, Huey?"

-"The...The water's okay? How is it okay?! WHY IS IT OKAY?! I NEED TO KNOW!", said research partner was currently yelling at a tube of perfectly okay water, as any great man in history did. His eyes bulged and he ground his beak, looking ever so close to that breaking point.

-"Uh...Listen, Huey, I wasn't there this morning...but is a spilled milk cup really worth all of...this? Your hand probably just slipped. I spilled my milk last week, too.", well, that wasn't exactly true, but Donald didn't have to let them know that he mixed up which hand was holding the cup and which one was holding the brush. In his defence, he'd just woken up and...yeah, that was the only thing he could say for himself.

-"No, you don't understand! I've been pouring myself a glass of milk every morning for three years! I mastered a technique of holding the bottle and the cup for three years! What if I needed this technique for a dangerous artefact...or...or...Or maybe so Scrooge's keys don't fall down a drain! What if I needed to fly a plane with this knowledge and it fails me like it did now?!", ah, how Donald loved Huey's rants. He was just so passionate about the things he did. If there wasn't a chance of him picking up a knife or some other dangerous object and going around on rampage with it, he'd have encouraged him to do it more. No pent up feelings and all that jazz. It was also threatening that his left hand had a screwdriver that looked just a bit too sharp to be waved around.

-"Well...when the time comes to that, you'll come up with a solution. I know you will.", he smiled encouragingly, making his ranting nephew look at him and eyeing the screwdriver in his hand. "But sometimes, a glass of milk is just that. A glass of milk. There's no bigger meaning behind it most of the time and you don't need to beat yourself over it.", he argued, slightly snapping Huey out of his momentary madness. "And that's uncle Scrooge to you, Huey."

Well, yes, there were times when knowing how to play the guitar saved him and his family, and screwing that up would've killed them all, but in the end, you need to prepare yourself mentally for when the time comes, and not by beating yourself for every small or big mistake. There are times for that, but this was certainly not one of them. Donald would know. He did it as an emo teenager. Man, he missed those days. Why did going emo fall out of fashion?! It's all about gothic movements these days, and he wasn't about those clothes.

-"I...Yeah, you're right.", the mad-scientist in Huey gave the wheel back to his rational self. Thank goodness. No new paint-coats for this screwdriver. "Sometimes a glass of milk is just that. Milk.", he repeated, taking the tube out of his uncle's hand and letting the water fall. "Thanks, unca' Donald. I needed that. Don't know what came over me there for a moment.", he too smiled, allowing the houseboat sailor to pat his shoulder.

-"Bah, don't sweat it, Huey! We all had this moment when we went on an insane scientific adventure to prove something that's probably unreal because we...uh...Yeah, I can't dig myself out of that one.", Webby admitted, slumping near the end of her sentence as she suddenly looked a bit tired. Helping Huey all day on his quest probably wasn't the easiest thing to do today. The quadro of ducks shared a laugh.

-"C'mere, Huey.", the older duck held his arms out, allowing his nephew to nestle in for a hug. He gestured to the two other ducklings.

-"GROUP-HUG!", taking advantage of the situation, Webby grabbed Dewey's arm and threw the both of them onto the sailor, who felt the air get knocked out of him for a moment as the two ducklings slammed into his stomach. Regaining his breath, he wrapped his hands around the three duckling around him.

-"Okay that's enough.", Dewey was the first to pull out, never one for too much emotional content when he didn't need it. The other two slowly pulled out, looking satisfied.

-"Welp. I guess it's time to clean this mess up.", the former mad-scientist in Huey was now firmly dead, it seemed. He let out a sigh, looking at the various contraptions he had set up in the room.

-"Don't worry about it, Huey, we can help you out. Not like I'll be doing much like this, anyways...", his brother gave him a pat on his back, pointing with his other hand to the various bandages that covered his face.

-"And I can help you, too! I want to get back granny's knives and laser guns, you know.", the young Vanderquack chimed in, looking cheerful as always, but a bit more down-to-earth now that the experiment she was assisting in turned out to be a bust. She pointed at a strange device that was, surprise surprise, made with various knives and what looked to be laser guns tapped together. What was even the point of that thing? To look science-y?

-"Ah, goodie, I think I'll help, too.", Donald added, trying to encourage this little aide-circle. He didn't really want his nephews to live in what looked like a madman's dump, which...for a few hours, it was.

-"Actually...I think you'd better prepare to try and bail Louie out of a lawsuit.", Huey suggested, starting to pick up the papers and small machines that covered the floor.

-"Oh, come on, Huey, I'm certain Louie is smart enough to not get himself into much trouble!", even before the older Duck finished his answer, the room's occupants began laughing. Oh, what a scenario that would be. Louie, not getting himself into trouble while searching for fortune. What a joke. "Yeah, okay, you're probably right.", he finally concluded, heading to the room's door and opening it before turning his head back, "Now, if you kids need anything, you can tell me, alright?"

-"Yes, Unca' Donald.", the three ducklings replied in unison with their usual boredom to his patronising acts. Ah, how he loved that tone of theirs.

Closing the door behind him, Donald started going down the stairs, taking in a deep breath. Well. This wasn't really the way he thought he'd be spending his afternoon, but you know what? It wasn't like he was complaining. A small bonding session with the boys was as good as any, after all, and the little motivational speech at the end? Mhmmmm, peak uncle performance right there.

Good job, humble Donald, you did well. What, he was allowed some sort of internal pride, wasn't he? If Gladstone could do it externally because he's lucky, then he could feel some pride for being a good uncle. He hoped. Well, thinking about it now...a good uncle wouldn't have let Louie go get himself into trouble...Hmm...

Well, maybe he wasn't a perfect uncle, but with his uncle and sister promoting this adventurous life-style, there was only so much he could do. Besides, people learn when bad things happen to them. He just had to hope nothing too bad happens, which, luckily, it doesn't. Most times.

He shielded his eyes as he got out of the building and had his eyes blinded by the sun and thought back to the smiles Dewey, Huey, Louie and Webby gave him. What he would do to have them smile like this all the time. Take that, Della, today, Donald had won the...uh...race? The contest of who's a better parent-figure? Well...all of them were good parent-figures but...Oh, forget it! What mattered was that he felt he did something good today and that was it.

He basked in that feeling of pride for a moment, opening his houseboat's main door before noticing a small green figure running towards the mansion from an enraged older man. What worried Donald wasn't the situation; it was that whatever Louie did, it made this man, who couldn't have been any younger than eighty, manage to wake his dormant muscles.

Well, he thought, guess it's time for more uncle-business. Ooooh, that was good. Maybe he could make it a catchphrase and actually copy-right it.

Whenever he calmed this older gentleman, of course. He took a step forward, readied his mind, and mentally prepared to save Louie from a butt-kicking. Yep. Typical Tuesday, alright, and he couldn't be a happier uncle about it.

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #donald duck #Huey Dewey and Louie #webby vanderquack #Milk murder attempts and bonding #we have it all

14 notes · View notes

versadies · 2 years

Note

Hello! Can i ask for a almond tofu + braised meat + mint jelly + dango milk (modern au) + ketchup :D

sweets and kittens — roommate!xiao x gn!reader

‿୨♡୧‿︵ BON APETIT MY FELLOW CUSTOMER ! ︵‿୨♡୧‿

name of order. SWEETS AND KITTENS

date. roommate!xiao (w/ gn!reader)

receipt. almond tofu (xiao) + braised meat (roommates au) + mint jelly (fluff) + dango milk (normal) + ketchup (hc scenario/bulleted format) w/ note of modern!au

spices. modern!au, roommates!au, fluff/no-angst, no warnings (?)

ingredients. in which your bond with a certain quiet roommate blooms when you come home at a late hour.

vip list. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @kazu-topia @chiruru @aqualesha @renamichii

xiao is… not a talkative person.

it’s the one thing you took note of him the moment he walked into your unit as your roommate for a year. although he wasn’t exactly the person you wanted as your roommate, he’s better than any roommate you were with.

“welcome to my place..?” you spoke first, hiding your cringe from how awkward you sound towards your roommate. “you can keep your coat by the hanger beside you and kee–”

“just take me to where i’ll be staying.” he interrupts with an unfazed look plastered on his face. his voice was soft, but his tone was certainly nowhere near being nice and polite. he kind of reminds you of an angsty teenager, you’d admit.

you tried to not look disbelieving in front of him and stiffly smiled, gesturing to where his room is. “follow me then, your room is just the opposite to where mine is.”

despite your first impressions with one another being as awkward and abrupt, the rest of the month was worse.

it felt like the two of you were simply ghosts to one another. with no words exchanged between you, cooking your own food and making the other cook on their own, doing your own respective hobbies and activities in your shared home, and even having a huge space between the two of you – it’s sad really.

you honestly thought he was a mean guy since he always looks like he wants to murder somebody, making you scared to not go to his room to tell him that he should lower down his loudass music that’s blasting at 3 am in the morning.

not that you’re complaining really. xiao is no doubt a good roommate who can pay up rent without any excuses unlike most roommates you’ve lived with and knows boundaries, so you have no excuses to hate him nor dislike him. still, it felt weird to have a roommate that you don’t interact with at all since you were so used to having chatty roommates like a certain man.

out of boredom, you decided to try and befriend him since you saw no point in not trying.

you tried to start multiple conversations with him, but he always manages to make it short before walking away, leaving you in defeat and confusion. your friends would urge you to just leave him be and not bother, but you really couldn’t waste an opportunity to have a new friend who will live with you for a long time, can’t you?

unfortunately, all of your attempts were nothing but failures. it’s incredible how that man manages to keep conversations short and know the right time to leave, making it look like he didn’t purposefully not want to start conversations with you (in reality, he did).

what helped you at least have progress was when you decided to try xiangling’s advice and cook meals for him. the first food you had in mind was almond tofu since it’s one of the only dishes that you have enough ingredients for, and you did not regret making it – especially when you could’ve sworn that your roommate’s lips twitches upward a little bit after giving it a taste.

despite having made progress, the man still didn’t even try to talk to you much. sure, he’s starting to talk a bit but all he ever said were “good morning” and “good night” to you now.

the time he actually talked to you was when you came back very late.

one of the things you like about xiao is how he actually waits for you to come home from your shift, which is always around 9 pm. although he often excuses it as him just wanting to watch a movie because he doesn’t have anything to do, you’ve grown to believe that he’s just lying to make it seem like he isn’t waiting for you (him retreating to his room when you entered your unit further made your point more proven).

so when you didn’t come back home after 9 pm, it immediately caught xiao’s attention.

he tried not to think much of it for a while, telling himself that you were probably caught in a traffic jam and will be taking a while to come back to your home – but after watching 2 movies, the only thing he could think about is you instead of the tv.

why is he thinking too much over someone like you? surely he isn’t that worried about you, is he?

“here,” the sight of a familiar dessert placed in front of xiao immediately caught his eye, causing him to look up at you in confusion. “what’s.. this?”

you raise an eyebrow from his question as you wipe your hands with a hand-towel. “don’t you know what almond tofu is? it’s for you, silly.” you spoke.

he was even more confused. “...did something happen or..?”

you laughed lightly, shaking your head to yourself from his cluelessness. “of course not. consider this my uh, welcome home gift. i was thinking that it’d be nice to cook something up for you – wait are you allergic to almond?”

he hesitantly eyes down the dessert for a moment before shaking his head. “no, i’m not.. thank you.”

he sighs, turning off the tv. ever since you gave him that dessert, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. maybe he should just go for it, or maybe he’s just overthinking things and it’s just his body begging him to go to sleep.

as if on cue, xiao suddenly hears the sounds of rain beginning to pour from the sky, causing him to stop his tracks from going to the solace of his room.

…did you bring an umbrella?

his shoulders slumped from the thought, frustrated from his indecisiveness in this situation. should he actually try to look for you? what if you were just busy from your job?

what if you weren’t though…

he lets out a sound of frustration before rushing towards his room to grab his coat from his closet and head to the front door with his umbrella, muttering curses and unexplainable words all the way.

when he exits from the apartment, he immediately went to the direction of your workplace. he can’t believe he’s doing this but he honestly can’t go back now, not when he’ll probably be conflicted again and feel bo–

“xiao? is that you?” he instantly stops his tracks when he hears your voice over the loud sounds of the rain, causing him to look behind him and spot you looking at him back with a shocked look on your face.

what on earth are you doing here? the both of you thought to yourselves.

“are you going to the grocery–” without thinking, he walks towards you and holds the umbrella between the two of you, frowning at the sight of your drenched self.

“you should’ve told me you’re going to be late, and why didn’t you bring an umbrella with you?”

your mouth was open agape. since when did he talk this much to you?

“i uh,” before you could say anything, you immediately gasp when a kitten shows its head from your coat, showing itself to xiao in curiosity.

the man was too stunned to speak.

“is that… a cat?”

you laughed nervously, trying to make the kitten hide again from your coat. “well uh, i-i was late because i came across this little one abandoned by the street near my workplace so i thought it’d be great to bring it home as our pet!”

“are pets even allowed in the apartment?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“no.. but we can let it hide in your room when the landlord visits us, if you don’t mind, of course!”

“who will clean it up then? it surely won’t be me.”

“me of course,” you volunteered. “but you have to help me find and shop for some things.”

xiao stares at you and the cat up and down in deep thought. he wasn’t exactly planning on having a pet at a time like this, but he didn’t have the strength to say no to you – especially since you’re staring at him as if he’s your last hope (he is, but he pretends to think that he isn’t).

it can’t be that bad to have another roommate right?

he sighs in defeat, giving in to your request because of the rain and he’s too exhausted to think more about it. “...fine, but make sure no one sees it coming out from your coat, they’ll definitely kick us out if they ever find out that you brought it in.”

you let out a small cheer of victory before you immediately try to hide the kitten in your cloak again and head towards your apartment with him rushing behind. he’s probably going to regret it later, but seeing you getting excited over it is… endearing.

you’re not that bad of a person to talk to, he suppose.

700 notes · View notes

ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole · 3 years

Text

Claiming Ones Own

Ok so, sorry for such a slow update on this. I had an attack of brain worm ideas which distracted/refused to let me focus on the chapter for a while. Have destroyed/dealt with most of the new ideas and have finally finished the chapter 🎉

Masterlist

[Chapter 1] [Previous]

...................................................................................

Chapter 5 - Playtime Chaos

Cass was going to kill Jason. That is, if Marie didn’t do it first by accident. He needed to go back to Gotham ASAP and get out of her hair! He may have been helpful to begin with, but now he was a menace and needed to go!

Jason had created a ‘new game’, well he said it was one he and Alfred used to play when he first moved into the manor, but it was still new to Cass. Only Jason had not really thought through the consequences of said game. He hadn’t thought that this game was with Cass and him rather than with Alfred who had obviously thought the game through properly.

The game, of which Jason thought was an amazing idea, was to redirect Marie's pickpocketing habit. If she pickpocketed strangers chocolate rights were reduced. Marie figured this rule out quickly which resulted in one horrific drama due reduced chocolate for the day. It was painful with lots of tears for all involved. Then there was a chocolate reward/increase rule when she pickpocketed Cass or Jason.

Cass might have agreed with his logic. It was a good game to bond with her, ensure she felt her skills remained and reduce the thieving, but this… THIS… result should have been expected!

What they hadn't considered is that the pair often carried weapons on them ALL the time. In and out the house. The pair were paranoid. Marie had observed the pair and quickly worked out what and where they stored these weapons.

Marie was also good at being light fingered to begin with. They knew that. THEY HAD EXPERIENCED IT. This wasn't new territory for her.

Training Marie further was a bad idea.

Cass so wanted to kill Jason for this game.

Cass’s heart couldn’t cope with it anymore. When the knives were taken it was anxiety inducing. Watching her daughter dance around with a knife, playing with it and watching it slice through the air caused so much panic in Cass.

The positive of that event was that Cass had started to train her daughter in basic swordplay. She observed, much like Damian, that going through basic positions and movements grounded and calmed her daughters chaotic energy. Marie was picking the skill up quickly so official 'safe fencing lessons' will be added to the girls learning activities.

Jason though, Jason her ‘delightful brother’ (if he survived her wrath), carried guns. He had ‘hidden’ guns around her apartment. So coming home from shopping to find her precious, innocent, sticky fingered Marie, inspecting and playing a gun was petrifying.

And Jason who was meant to be watching her daughter was missing! It was the last straw for Cass.

…………………………………………..

Jason admits that this may have been a mistake. Thinking back with a more analytical perspective than fond memories. Alfred had set it up that Jason would nearly always win the game. Alfred knew where weapons were but didn’t carry them around on his person.

Marie was a natural. Jason was super proud of his niece, she was getting swifter and lighter at each attempt. Her playing with the finds aka knives was maybe a little oversight. Cass’s reaction to it all was even less fun. Her subtle disgruntledness was made known to him unpleasantly. Swapping the sugar for salt in his morning coffee was revolting! But it at least was just basic pranks Cass was retaliating with… not Wayne Manor declarations of war…. He hoped...

He had popped out the room briefly (ok maybe not briefly but not for a really long time) as Roy had rang and wanted his assistance for a mission. Coming back into the room he found Pixie with his latest new toy *cough* gun and an irrate Cass looking like she would murder with the batglare she throw at him.

"Hi Cass.... Pixie… Roy just called asking for my assistance. I'll," he gulped as his sister levelled him with a laser beam stare and his niece turned to him, pointing the gun in a way he was showing her earlier, with curiosity showing on her face. "I'll be leaving in a few days… umm Pixie could you be a sweetheart and aim the gun downwards please?"

His niece frowned at him looking at it and him "Chocolate?" Jason quickly glanced at Cass and could feel the icy waves wafting off her. "Errr... Yeah sure thing sweetie. But to get it you will need to put the gun down first please."

Marie broke into a grin and put the gun in the coffee table skipping over to Jason to grab his hand leading him to her treasure. "Your stance then was much better, Pixie, and I didn't even feel you take the gun this time. You've improved loads this week."

He felt Cass's anger pour off her. Maybe he should have asked if he could teach Pixie about guns....

When the pair returned to the living room, Cass handed Jason his suitcase. "Go! Be Roy's issue now"

…………………………………………..

With Jason gone Cass found that the apartment was much quieter with just the pair of them, especially as sign language seemed to be both of their preferred communication method. Cass turned to playing music in the background to remind her of her siblings back in Gotham (not Jason though), this caused her to dance absentmindedly. Marie was often caught trying to mimicking her dance moves with light footwork, her grace and form yet to be perfected.

Cass saw this as another class to sign her daughter up to along with fencing to burn the chaotic energy up. Especially now Jason wasn't around playing rough and tumble with her.

................................................................

It was one afternoon about a month after Jason had left that Cass had a break through. While Marie was setting up a tea ceremony (a post swordplay practice ritual she'd got into), Cass had stumbled on her first actual clue in finding out about Marie's past. Her search had finally unearthed similar symbols, used centuries ago by some Tibetan monks, to the ones that were on her back. What this meant Cass was unsure. To progress further she probably needed to talk to Babs or Tim, but if she did that she'd have to tell them why. Which everyone finding about Marie and she wasn't ready for that.

She still fretted over what Marie must have gone though and to unleash the Wayne's on her seemed daunting.

Cass was about to look further into what she had gathered when her phone went off. It Alfred calling which was unusual.

"Alfred"

"Hello Miss Cassandra. I hope you are well and have settled into motherhood comfortably."

Cass paled. Alfred knew!! Damn it Jason!!! He was dead meat when she saw him next.

"Adapting. Marie, your great granddaughter, is sweet. Both learning about being together"

"I see. I am assuming that that is going well. Master Jason has mentioned that you found her on the streets in a similar manner to how he was found."

Jason guns were going to go missing and be replaced with water pistols.

"Yes. Much better now. Learning sign to talk to each other. Eating better too."

"That is good news to hear Miss Cassandra."

It was a set up. Jason had triggered in and Alfred was waiting to pounce. There was no way to escape but to make it easier for her self.

"We visit you soon. Wanted Marie settled first."

"I'll arrange a flight for you in a fortnight's time. Is there anything young Miss Marie will require."

Completely trapped now she'd taken the bait. Alfred knew it, she knew it. And everyone will know about Marie in no time. Maybe she would be able to get Babs and Tims help after all.

"Thank you Alfred. Bunk bed, milk chocolate and chocolate spread please." Cass paused for a second as Marie looked over to her signing 'tea time Mama'

"Loose green tea leaves too, for tea ceremony, please."

Cass finally could hear a smile in Alfred's voice and relaxed slightly. She may have escaped some of Alfred's disappointment.

"I will ensure I meet those requirements Miss Cassandra. I will send you your flight details when I have finished arranging them. I look forward to seeing you again Miss Cassandra, and to meeting Miss Marie. I will now take my leave for you to spend time with you daughter."

Looks like she will be needing to prepare Maire for a flight and meeting the family. She would have to up her parenting game to ensure she completely beat Bruce.

Moments after she had hung up Alfred had sent flight details across. Complete evidence that the whole call as a ruse and he got what he wanted. Well played Alfred well played. Cass responded to Alfred, thanking him for his efficiency and to arrange some face time calls to occur in the next fortnight. Alfred deserved to get to know her precious Marie first so at least she had an ally in the Manor when they visited. Someone other than Jason. That reminded Cass to shoot a text to Jason

*You.are.dead.betrayer.*

He replied quickly to her message

*Adventure with Roy went sideways. Alfred wasn't happy. I needed something to soften the blow!!! I'm sorry!!! Don't kill me!!*

Pah! He sold her out that's what. He was in Alfred's book of disappointment and didn't want to be there alone so dragged her to hell too. Jokes on him, she'll work her and Marie magic to make it work for them. Her phone buzzed again as Jason messaged her again. Ignoring it she went to join Marie for tea and tell her the 'fun news'.

In her head she had a fortnight to prepare her revenge.

Tag List:

@boldlyanxious @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo

@too0bsessedformyowngood @lady-bee-fechin @solangelo252 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @arty-shadow-morningstar @macncheesemonster @purplegeekypanda @corporeal-terrestrial @maribat-shenanigans

#maribat #maribat au #claiming ones own #marinette x cass #plantonic #found family #marinette x jason #ml x dc #dc x ml #mlb x dc #dc x mlb

200 notes · View notes

gallavichfanficlibrary · 3 years

Text

Favorites of 2020

These are just some of the wonderful fics I (admin @milkymickeyway ) came across this years. It’s definitely nowhere near all the amazing fics that were written when a whole lot of us were trapped inside for a year. but I tried my best. I stuck to chaptered fics as to not make this 10 pages long but anything that had an update in 2020 outside of that was fair game!

I also limited it to one fic per author, unless an author happened to have a co-writer in another fic.

you make me feel human In which Ian is a cold-blooded serial killer with a soft spot for a certain South Side asshole.

Risky Business The one where Mickey gets a job as Ian's secretary.

Oceans of Time In early 1800s England, Ian, a 19-year-old human farm boy, first encounters Mickey, a 57-year-old vampire who looks

Uptown Boy Ian Gallagher didn't expect to fall in love with anyone when he and his brother walked through the doors of that bar. Mickey Milkovich didn't expect to get mixed up with anyone from the Northside.

Miles Between Us In the summer of 1975, Mickey Milkovich is released from Beckman Correctional in California after a seven year prison sentence. He's set to make the long road trip from Los Angeles back to his hometown of Chicago. On the way though, the pair pick up a hitchhiker who teaches Mickey that life on the outside has changed and the road home is never easy.

Hands Across the Sea Set in 1950’s New York. A freshly immigrated Ukrainian meets an Irish American. A romance of shitty back alley bars, shared cigarettes and secrets ensues.

to stop our hearts from drowning Mickey gets out of prison six months after being arrested for a crime he didn't actually commit. Things are going... well, they're going. Until he runs into Ian.

None the wiser The real time accounts of Ian visiting Mickey's dingy diner and slowly becoming his friend.

The Question of Normal Ian Gallagher is a prison counsellor. His life is finally steady and stable and that's just fine. Until one Mickey Milkovich is assigned to him and he has to try to find a way to help the immate.

Hollywood Ian and Mickey have been best friends (and secretly in love with each other) since high school. After graduation, they head to opposite ends of the country to try to chase their dreams and put their past behind them

Cooperative Gameplay At nineteen years old, Ian Gallagher’s stuck. Until he sees is MICK MILK, Mickey, Nightmare Hour Let’s Play horror gamer.

Bright eyes Mickey is an accountant, he runs a business when the owner isn't there and he doesn't take shit from anyone (almost). He is also an android.

Bound The rom-coms tell you that finding your soulmate is the hard part. For Mickey and Ian, bonded by accident while they're still teens and still stuck in Southside, that is the only part that’s been easy. A re-telling of the early part of their romance where everything’s the same, but soulmates exist.

Where the Freigned Wind Falls An unexpected inheritance allows Ian to purchase a building in the heart of Chicago’s Wicker Park. He plans on turning the ground floor into a music lounge, but he’s not expecting his upstairs tenant to be Mickey; an irritable (and intriguing) tattoo artist struggling to get his business up and running.

Panama Red Life isn't turning out the way Ian Gallagher planned it. But it turns out that might not be such a bad thing when his brother sends him to pick up some world famous weed from a new drug dealer.

You Can’t Always Get What You Want It's week five of quarantine and Mickey hasn't had his heat suppressors in weeks.

Ian Gallagher and All His Mistakes Or in which everything is about the same, except that Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich meet each other a little later in life - a little more mature, a little more stable - and manage to make a million mistakes anyway.

That Milkovich Reputation Mickey would have an easier time swallowing his sentence if he’d actually meant to commit attempted murder. Then again, if he’d meant to, then that wasn’t what he’d be going down for. If he’d meant to, Sammi Slott would already be dead.

Can’t Figure You Out Mickey meets a mysterious and frustrating redhead in the lobby of his workplace. He can't seem to get rid of him.

🎊 Like I said, this really isn’t anywhere near a complete list of all the great fics that are out there this year, but I hope you accept this list anyway and have a happy wonderful New Year! 🎆

Other admin’s list :)

#happy new year!!!!!#gallavich #gallavich fanfiction #favorites #lists

223 notes · View notes

treluna4 · 2 years

Note

fanworks creators self rec! when you get this, reply with your favourite five fanworks you’ve made, then pass on to at least five other creators 💗

I was also asked this by

@rosedavid @goodiecornbread @weathereyehorizon

You guys (gender neutral) are the Fucking best. ❤️

Once Upon A Time fandom:

Strange Alliances:The Life and Fights of Emma Swan.

50K words. Rated E.

Emma Swan is a badass pirate captain with a few secrets in her past. One day, Captain Hook climbs aboard her ship and offers her a deal. He wants to take down the most ruthless villain in the realm, and he needs her help to do it.

Featuring: piracy, murder, light torture, rum, betrayal, kind strangers, adoption, a royal runaway, magic, complicated family relationships, more rum, general badassery, and plenty of sexual tension.

Schitt’s creek fandom:

Pull the shot. Steam the milk. Repeat.

50k words. Rated E.

This was my attempt at a slow burn. 🤣 I made it two whole chapter!!! Almost. I love this story though. I really do. It’s the college coffee shop hookups to friends to lovers fic I didn’t know I needed.

Featuring: way more sex than I initially planned on writing, long distance relationships, decent dudebros, OC coworkers, love letters, artist!David, helpful?families, falling in love at a coffee shop.

Little Black Dress

1.4K words. Rated T

If Patrick had never questioned his sexuality, he wouldn’t have the life he had now. Maybe it was time to start asking other questions.

Featuring: gender identity exploration, a nosy cashier, Supportive!David, and a little black dress.

Can I Ask You Something

2k words. Rated T

As David and Patrick get ready to open Rose Apothecary, David opens a bottle of wine and the two get to know each other better.

Featuring: pining. More pining. Lots of pining. Working late. Dark night of the soul confessions. Bonding. Growing trust and friendship. Missing moment from the show.

When I Was Younger

2.5k words. Rated G

This is the first thing I’ve ever written in the present tense. I also limited the introspection as much as possible. The goal was to stay here in the scene. Like a fly on the wall.

Featuring: bisexual Marcy Brewer, mother/son bonding, sparkling lemonade, and wildlife sightings.

#this was fun!#thank you all for the ask!

5 notes · View notes

youxidol · 3 years

Text

𝐯𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞!𝐞𝐱𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: being rejected by their mate

Hi! Can I request a vampire!exo reaction to being rejected by their mate?? Thanks in advance

Minseok:

You knew Minseok well, you could pick up on small signs and give him what he needed, which he was always grateful for. This is why it shocked you that he wouldn’t come and sleep with you when he was a few days overdue for one, deciding to pump himself full of blood that made him giddy.

When you woke up to your alarm his limbs were draped over you, his typical napping position. He tried his best to keep his grip on you as you made your way out of bed, but his lack of rest made him weaker, letting you slip out of the warm covers to start your day.

“Y/N,” he whined, pushing himself up to watch you get ready for work through the messy fringe that hung over his face.

“I asked you to nap with me over the weekend and you turned me down,” you leaned over to press your lips to his forehead. “Rest while I’m at work. I’ll see you when I get home.”

He let out a groan at not getting his way, letting you push him down into the mattress before you left, leaving him pouting and fighting sleep.

Junmyeon:

“Hey pretty lady/man,” Junmyeon slurred, a smirk on his lips as he sloppily ripped his coat off. The clan had gone out to celebrate an engagement at the blood bar while the mates all went to a human bar, both of your enjoying bonding time.

“I missed you alot tonight,” he flopped his drunk body down next to yours, lips instantly puckering up to you, the smell of blood making you wince.

“Maybe in the morning, your breath smells like metal,” you whispered, moving the covers over him.

“Maybe in the morning,” he gave you a dopey smile before he slipped into dreamland.

Baekhyun:

The smell of bath elixirs and your favourite self care products filled Baekhyun’s nose the second you opened the door to your home. He couldn’t stop the ripple of joy that went through his body, excited to get in the bath with you and hold you close while you both relaxed the day’s stresses away.

"We’re having a bath?” he beamed, jumping up from his spot on the bed to wrap his arms around your middle the second you entered your bedroom.

“Just me,” you wiggled out of his grip to get to the bathroom and start you mini spa evening.

He spent a few moments in absolute shock, his stone heart hurting in his chest before he collected your favourite pyjamas, folding them on the bed ready for you to put on when you were ready.

Chanyeol:

You had heard stories about what vampires were like when they were ill (the exo clan using it as a chance to tease and embarrass each other), but you never expected a sick vampire to be this bad.

When you returned from a night away Chanyeol was curled up in bed with every piece of clothing you owned. You thought it was just his usual routine, but when he was out cold you began to panic.

After consulting with his leader it was decided a potion would be best for him, which the coven had no trouble providing for you.

You thought he would down it in one, ridding his body of the sickness, but the giant baby turned his nose up at it, telling you cuddling you was perfectly good medicine.

“Drink what the coven bought you or you’re getting nothing,” you couldn’t help but chuckle at the grabby hands he made in your direction in attempt to get you to cave in.

He let out a huff when you turned to leave, clammy body falling back onto the bed, cursing the vampire race for not being immune to everything.

Kyungsoo:

You sat at the kitchen table with your boyfriend, the photos of your week away from him to celebrate a friend’s wedding splayed out as you spoke him through each one.

He picked one up with you in your bridesmaid/groomsman attire, a grin growing on his face, running his finger over the glossy print.

“Let’s get married,” he glanced to you. “We can elope right now.”

You couldn’t stop the chuckle that left your lips. “We both know we’d be murdered by our families if we did that,” you leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m getting you a ring soon,” he turned his head to connect his lips to yours.

Jongin:

Jongin was passionate about dogs, dedicating most of his undead life to giving them the happiest and most loving environment possible. He would always take strays off the street, becoming their father and you their mother/father.

When he found out that most shelters had a website he would be glued to his phone, looking through every photo and profile possible. He would also begin to nag you about adding more to your little pack.

“So this one will be perfect with ours,” his sudden appearance startled you, hand coming up to your chest to soothe your heart. “Friendly with others, fully trained, playful,” he grinned, holding his phone up for you to see.

“We don’t have room or time for anymore,” you frowned, looking over the pictures he swiped between.

“What about when you’re changed?” his black eyes met yours, lips pulling into a pout at the thought of the two of you no longer expanding your family.

“Maybe.”

Sehun:

The sight of the King and Queen carrying their heavy luggage through the courtyard pulled you away from your first breakfast at the palace.

You watched them for a few moments through the large windows of the dining room before nodding in their direction, getting Sehun’s attention.

"Mum and Dad are leaving for the weekend on duty,” he informed before taking a sip of his milk. “We’re in charge.”

“In charge?”

“Me and you, King and Queen/King for two whole days,” his lips pulled up into a proud smile. “I have a crown and the perfect outfits for you.”

“I don’t think that’s appropriate...” you frowned, turning back to your meal. “I’ll pass.”

The prince let out a groan and brought the drink back to his lips. “I’ll have your crown resized to fit Vivi.”

#vampire!au #vampire!exo #exo #requested #exo scenarios #exo reaction #exo imagine #minseok #xiumin #suho #junmyeon #baekhyun #chanyeol #do #kyungsoo #kai #jongin #sehun #q - spooning with chanyeol

61 notes · View notes

unmaskedagain · 5 years

Text

Marinette Vs Santa

A quick Christmas drabble.

How did Marinette find out she was adopted? Well… her little half-brother tried to kill her.

Also, that’s how she found out her biological dad was Batman. Because… why not. As if her life wasn’t weird enough already.

And to think Marinette had been secretly writing Santa every year since she was three to like nine asking for a sibling of her own. She didn’t think it would ever happen

Then one day, on a cold December night, as Ladybug ran across rooftops to see as many of the Christmas decorations as possible. Suddenly every instinct she had told her to duck. And she did just narrowly avoided a sword to the throat.

Marinette readied herself to fight an Akuma, only to see an angry ten-year-old with a sword and a mask. He was dressed in green, red, and gold.

“Die, usurper!” He roared and attacked her again.

Ladybug dodged and jumped every attempt to kill her and tried to resist the urge to punch a child.

Eventually she got the better of the kid, and ended up hog tying him.

Marinette put her hands on her knees as she struggled to catch her breath, “Who. Are. You. Nightmare. Child?” She asked in between breaths. Ladybug picked up the fallen sword and pointed at him. “And what is your problem? What did I even do to you?”

“You are Marinette Dupain-Cheng, first born blood child of our father.” He hissed at her, “I am our father’s rightful heir; not you.”

Our father? Did her dad have a lovechild? Did he cheat on her mom? No, Tom Dupain would never.

“What?” Marinette pinched her nose. “You want to be head baker?”

“Fool!” He tsk’d at her. “I’ve no interest in your adoptive parents’ holdings. I will follow Father’s footsteps and rule the night. I will be Batman. Not you, sister. Kneel before me and renounce your heirship, and I will spare your life.”

…Wait Adoptive? Batman? Sister?

Marinette just stared at him. Not saying a word. For a while. Awhile he insulted her.

She looked out at the colorful lights that glowed against the freshly fallen snow and sense of peace that filled the air, and Marinette whispered the only thing on her mind…

“Fuck Santa.”

The boy stopped struggled and gave her a perplexed look, “What? What does the jolly fat man have to do with anything? Why has he made you angry, sister? I will avenge you.”

You just tried to kill me, she wanted to say.

Marinette just rolled her eyes, “Never mind. We need to talk.” She picked him and tossed him over her shoulder. “In my room.”

Running across Paris with a struggling kid on your shoulder and a sword in your hand wasn’t easy.

When she got to her room, she dropped the kid on her bed as gently as possible. “Do not escape,” She ordered. “If you do, do not destroy my room. I’m going to ask my parents if…” If they’re really her parents. Why didn’t they tell her? Why? Just Why? “What you say is true. I won’t mention Batman.”

Or the psychotic ten-year-old she had tied up in her room. Who may or may not be her brother.

Marinette de-transformed. Tikki hid in her hair before anyone could see her.

She came back to her room half an hour later with a cheese plate, full of veggies, fruits and crackers. And a tray full of chocolate chip Christmas cookies and two glasses of milk. She sat them down at the desk.

The boy glared at her.

“You were right,” Marinette sighed. “I was adopted. My birth mom was just nineteen when she had me. The sister of one of my mom’s friends.”

The news had been a blow. Her parents had kept repeating how much they loved her and how they had been planning on telling her when she was older. Older than fourteen. They wanted to know how she found out. She said her little brother had gotten in contact with her.

Marinette eyed the still tied up boy… her brother. He no longer struggled against his bonds, just stared with an angry expression on his face. “I don’t want to be Batman,” She told him. “The title is all yours. I like being Ladybug. It’s a name I earned, worked hard for. A name I’m proud of and will not part with easily. Is that something you can understand?”

He stared at her for a moment before nodding slowly, “You created your own hero persona to find the terror entrapping your city; all by yourself. …Father did the same.”

He said the last part with a sad tone that Marinette’s new found big sisterly instincts go haywire. “And you think just because you’re his… partner,” She said, instead of sidekick because she was sure that word would get her killed. “And not a solo hero, that he will find you unworthy of being his heir.” Marinette sat down next to him, and patted his hair softly. “Did you ever think that because he is the one who’s training you, that because you fight by his side, that he’d trust you more? Trust you to take up his mantle in the way he can’t trust me. He doesn’t know what I’m capable of entirely. But he knows exactly what you can do because he taught you.”

Her brother scoffed but his face lost some of its anger and he seemed to relax.

“I’m going to untie you now,” She told him. “Do not attack me.”

When he was untied and given back his sword, which he sheathed, Marinette brought over the food. “You know my name,” She said after he took a bite a cookie and seemed pleased with it. “What’s yours?”

“Damian,” He answered. “Damian Al-Ghul Wayne. How did you obtained magical powers? And what is the creature that thought it could hide from me?”

Marinette just blink. Because Dammit Tikki. The pink ball of fluff out with a chastised look on her face. Unfortunately that look meant nothing as all the other Kwami Marinette now protected as Guardian thought that meant they could come out to.

Plagg straight to Damian and sat on his lap, “Cheese. Now.”

Marinette face-palmed. The Kwami had taken trying to declare dominance ever since Ladybug took the ring back from Chat Noir.

Damian could only stare at the being, animal, and sprite as he reached slowly for a piece of cheese from the selection of food and handed it the small creature. That was all the other Kwami needed to rush to him for attention. Damian was easily mesmerized by the little creatures and saw no issue in showing them affection. Apart from the fact that Oracle, and Father, and thus the rest of the family were watching the feed, through the mask, while they attempt to locate him. Damian could only disable their trackers for so long. Annoying as she was, Oracle was a genius.

“Okay, little brother,” Marinette shrugged. “You tell me your story. I’ll tell you mine.”

And so they did. The two siblings spent the next few hours telling the other all about their history. Neither were happy.

Marinette was beyond furious that her little brother was raised by ruthless assassins, cast into the role of Robin (though mostly by his own doing), constantly risked his life, and had little no childhood.

Damian was pissed, which was putting it nicely. His beloved sister had no training when she was charged with the task of defending the city as the hero Ladybug and fight a supernatural terrorist, dealt with sexual harassment from her once trusted partner, then her master died in battle but not before he bestowed one of the most powerful magical artifacts of all time to a teenager. To top it all off, his sweet sister was being bullied by a pathological liar who turned all her friends against her, nearly got her expelled, leaving her with little to no Allies to aid her in her fight against evil. Marinette had cried at the end of her tale.

…He was going burn Paris to the ground.

Little did he know, the Batfamily found it hard not to agree as they watched the livestream from the Batplane?

Dick had gone from jumping up and down at the sight of his adorable new sister, Marinette. She was a hero called Ladybug, how cute was that? To being rather angry at what she had to put up with. It was too much pressure for a kid, superhero, superpowers, or not.

“What do we do?” Tim asked.

Batman was still having trouble processing. He had another daughter; a beautiful little girl who seemed to have taken after him without ever having known the man. Nature versus Nurture, he supposed; nature won. Marinette who had been fighting to save her city like he fought to save his. Who was her mother? Why didn’t she tell Bruce he had another child? Granted Brucie wasn’t who most people thought would be an ideal father but still… Hadn’t he proved himself?

“Find Hawkmoth,” Jason growled. “Punch a hole through his face. And Send Steph and Cass to have a “Talk”, he air quoted. “With that Lila chick. While we have a little talk of our own with Chat Noir. End of story.”

Cass nodded, gleefully, that little girl would pay for what she did to Cassandra’s sister. And if she was lucky, Lila would even live to tell the tale.

Stephanie was wondering if the Batfamily, her sort of-adopted family, could really get away with murder.

…Who was she kidding? They totally could.

“We don’t… kill?” Batman said as he turned around and stalked away. “I’ll inform Alfred of the development.” Maybe have him prepare a room, he thought with hope. He’d like his daughter to visit and feel at home whenever she could.

When Batman left the area, Tim looked around at his siblings, “Did that sound like a question to anyone else?”

Marinette and Damian fell asleep next to each other, with the Kwami cuddled close. The next morning she woke not only to sound to the sound of the Kwami but to the sight of five additional vigilantes heroes, in addition to the one from the night before, hovering around her room.

Two girls who were discussing with Trixx and long about their abilities. A hero in mostly black and red, who sat on Marinette’s top bunk with Marinette’s laptop on his lap, and Pollen on his shoulder. Damian still had Plagg with him, which Marinette wanted to tsk at because she told him not to play favorites. A blue, clearly the oldest, was laying on the floor playing with the remaining Kwami like they were puppies.

She sat up in her bed and tried to wipe the sleep from her eyes. She glared at Damian, “Want to explain?”

“Mornin, sunshine,” A guy in a redmask said, with Barkk on his shoulder, as he chopped on a leftover cookie, not noticing the way Tikki glared at him. “Name’s Red Hood. Real name Jason. Dad’s downstairs talking to your parents.”

Dad?

She glared even harder at Damian. He shrugged, “Marinette, these are our… brothers and sisters.” He said. “They were adopted.”

“You should get better security on your computer,” The hero on her bed said. “Name’s Tim. I go by Red Robin.”

“Cassandra,” One the girl introduced. “Blackbat.”

“Stephanie. Batgirl,” The other said.

“I’m Dick!” The one on the floor laughed. “Nightwing. Welcome to the family.”

Tim continued, “I’ve located all personal information on Lila Rossi. I believe we can now move forward with the plan.”

Jason clapped his hands together, “Awesome. Operation: Get That Bitch is a go.”

Marinette just started at them. Six. She had six siblings. One for every year ever asked for a sibling for Christmas. She just had one thing to say as she tossed the covers back over her head to hide from the world…

“Fuck. Santa.”

Finding out Bruce Wayne, cough Batman cough, was her father was one thing. Meeting him in person was another. He stared at her with cool blue eyes that made Marinette realize she probably should’ve questioned where she got her own long before.

Her parents had been surprised when Bruce Wayne walked into their bakery and asked to speak with them alone. Even more so, when he claimed to be the biological father of their daughter. It had been long conversation between the three. But Bruce made it clear that he had interest of just taking Marinette from them. However, he would like visitations and for her to spend time with him over the summers. And to take her out for the day so she could meet her siblings. Also, about adding Wayne to her last name.

So that was how Marinette found herself sitting in one of the most expensive restaurants in all of Paris, in the best dress she ever designed herself, with her… family.

The initial awkwardness was broken up by all her siblings. Though they seemed to know to how to behave in public, they had no problems messing with each other and teasing.

“How long have you been into fashion, Marinette?” Bruce, her Papa, (As her dad would always be her dad).

She smiled, “Since I was really little. It’s my dream to have my own line.”

Bruce’s eyes got bright at the chance to help his daughter, “I can help you with that. I can drum up a connect or two, to get you started.”

“He’ll throw money at it until someone cracks,” Jason translated which cause Marinette to laugh and Bruce to glare.

Marinette discovered Damian had snuck Plagg with him to the restaurant.

Marinette just groaned.

“You brought Tikki!” Damian defended.

“I’m the holder of her Miraculous,” She hissed back as low as she could. “Paris’s main and sometimes only hero. I need her.”

Damian huffed, “That’s no reason he shouldn’t be allowed to attend as well. He’s with me.”

Before Marinette could continue the arugment…

“Wayne?” Gabriel Agreste asked, tailed by Natalie, Adrien, Chloe, and Chloe’s parents: Audrey Bourgeois and André Bourgeois. “Bruce Wayne?”

Bruce put on his most charming smile as he stood up, “Yes and you are?” He put out his hand.

Gabriel shook it, clearly wondering why the billionaire was there. “Gabriel Agreste.”

Bruce nodded, “The fashion designer.”

“This is my son Adrien,” Gabriel introduced. “My assistant Nathalie. My longtime friend Audrey Bourgeois, of the Style Queen, and André Bourgeois, mayor of Paris, and their lovely daughter. We’re here for a quick lunch.”

“Same,,” Bruce nodded. “I’m here with my children. My eldest Dick, followed by Jason, Cassandra, Stephanie, Tim, Marinette and my youngest Damian.” He introduced them.

At the sound her name, all the newcomers eyes went to Marinette. She gave them a small wave, “Good to see you again.”

“Dupain-Cheng!” Chloe gasped.

Damian growled, “Dupain-Cheng-Wayne.” As he glared passed her at the blond boy, the former Chat Noir.

The blond girl was stunned, “How could you not tell me?”

Hadn’t the two moved passed their difference and become friends? The two girls, and Kagami and united together when the liar seemed to take hold of the rest of the class.

“No one knew,” Marinette defended. I didn’t even know, she wanted to add. But they had discussed and agreed on the story that Bruce and an unknown woman gave up Marinette to the Dupain-Chengs when she was born. Nothing scandalous about it.

Gabriel paused as he tried to think of what to say. How did he not know there was Wayne living in Paris, that his son was classmates with a Wayne. The girl had power in her pinky when she was still in Nappies, then either of the older Bourgeois had currently in their entire bodies. She would’ve been a much better playmate for his son than Chloe; the vapid, girl that she was.

Audrey was thinking nearly the same thing. “Such a brilliant daughter you have, Brucie,” She smoozed. “I still can’t believe she turned down the internship I offered her. I want her to come to New York with me, you know?”

Bruce beamed, “I’m glad someone sees her brilliance.”

This went on for a while as each of the parents tried their hands at flattering the billionaire. Bruce finally had enough and all but dismissed them

“I’m glad our children our such good friends,” Gabriel said finally as he turned to leave.

Marinette fought he urge to scoff. Adrien was not her friend.

The boy in question looked anywhere but at Marinette as he left. He had chosen to side with the other students when the Ice’d out Marinette until the girl stopped being a bully and being mean to Lila. Even if he knew it wasn’t true. Most declared they weren’t her friends anymore. Alya said she’d never be friends with Marinette again.

Coward, Damian nearly hissed. When they were gone, he turned to Marinette, “The blond girl is your alley, correct?” He asked. “Your Queen?”

Marinette nodded, “There’s Luka and Kagami as well.”

“I will test to ensure they are worthy to fight at her side,” He declared.

The others nodded. Bruce got a dark look on his face, “We all will.” He would not allow his daughter to suffer another Chat Noir.

That was it, Marinette thought as she threw down the sliver napkin, she was starting to hate Christmas.

The end of the weekend the entire world knew that Marinette was Bruce Wayne’s daughter. This made going to school Monday morning a huge spectacle as paparazzi crowded the outside the bakery and outside the school. Each one trying to get the attention of Wayne’s crown jewel, new Princess of Gotham, as the media dubbed her.

Suffice to say, Bruce had taken her to school that day flagged by Dick and Tim as her other siblings combed the city for traces of Hawkmoth.

The principle had practically fallen over himself to speak with the Bruce Wayne. But quickly hid in the shadows, when the first thing Bruce said to him was, “Ah, yes, you’re the man who expelled my daughter without a proper investigation. I’ll be talking to you later. So will my lawyers.”

Marinette tried to hide her blushing face her father walked her to class. Students did everything they could to get a look at her. Chloe and Kagami waited outside her classroom, that was practically bursting with noise.

However She practically drop dead when Tim complimented Kagami’s sword fighting skill and offered to duel her, and Kagami blushed. Blushed. Kagami?

Marinette shook her head as she kissed her father and brothers goodbye. This world just didn’t make sense anymore.

The two other girls flanked Marinette’s side as they walked into class. All noise stopped instantly. Marinette didn’t even bother spare the other kids a glance as the three took a seat in back of the class.

Chloe quickly pulled her into a conversation of the places she’d see that summer in New York.

“I’ll be spending the end of Christmas break in Gotham too,” Marinette said shyly. “I’ll open my presents there. Papa wants me there for the Wayne Ball was I can be properly introduced to society.”

And not because Bruce Wayne was scared of what Alfred would do if he didn’t get to mean his new granddaughter before the new year. That and Martha Kent were the ultimate overprotective grandparents.

“A Ball?” Lila squeaked, poorly concealed jealously on her face. She still couldn’t believe the little twit was Wayne. IF she had, Lila would’ve been a hell of a lot nicer. No wonder Marientte always knew when Lila was lying. She probably knew the celebrities through her father. “You’re going to the Waynes’ Annual New Year’s Ball.”

“Everyone goes,” Rose awe’d. “It’s basically a red carpet event. I watch every year. And Selena Gomez had the most beautiful dress on last time.”

Juleka hummed in agreement, “Clara Nightingale looked like a princess.”

Marinette just shrugged as each of her classmates offered their input on what the Ball would be like. She wasn’t about to make nice with them. They had turned their backs on her, betrayed her trust. Her brothers and sisters had warned her to be watchful for phony friends.

Alya, who’s face had been turning steadily more red, as the classmates speculated who Marinette would meet. “Girl!” She burst. “How could not tell me?”

Marinette raised a thin eyebrow, “We’re not friends, Alya, by your own declaration. I don’t believe I have to tell you anything. And even when we were friends, I only knew you for two years. Why would I tell a journalist anything important about me?”

“She was right not to,” Kagami stated, “With how quickly you all turned on her, I’m surprised she ever told you anything at all.”

Alya flinched back as if slapped. So did a few other students.

“It’s not fair,” Alya continued as if nothing happened. “I could’ve gotten so many interviews. OH! I could with you to the Ball. It’ll be bomb.”

The three girls in the backrow just stared at her.

“We. Are. Not. Friends,” Marinette repeated slowly. “Kagami and Chloe, and their families are invited because Kagami. And. Chloe. Are. My. Friends. In fact, my only friends in class. Luka is invited as well as well as his family,” She turned to Juleka who turned bright red. “Luka will receive invite tonight. If you attend with him, I will do my best to be polite. My father allowed me to invite them so I would have additional company if it gets too busy. The Ball is invitation only.”

Allowed? He insisted. Marinette doesn’t even know how he found out all their names and who their families were. For reason, Marinette had the gut instinct to blame a redhead and Tim. Batman wanted to test his daughter’s team. And if they were lacking… Well, he’d promised to shape them up. Or else.

“I’m going to the Wayne Ball!” Chloe shouted. “And you didn’t tell me. It’s mere weeks away. I need a dress. I need to tell Mother.”

Kagami had frozen. She knew well that the Wayne Ball wasn’t just any high society event. It was the High society event. Her family had never been elite and rich enough to receive an invitation. “I thank you for the invitation,” She bowed her head. “It will be a pleasure to attend.” She paused as she pulled out her phone and stood up. “I must also tell Mother.” And with, she quickly left the room.

Which was much more polite than Chloe who called her mom then and there.

“Mama!” Chloe sang, “Marinette invited us to the Wayne Ball this year!”

“WHAT!” Was heard from the receiver.

Marinette giggled. She ignored the glare Alya sent her.

Rose grasped Juleka’s arm and jumped up and down. “You’re going to the ball. Ahhhh!” She screamed. “What will you wear? Your hair? You have to take pictures.” Rose suddenly reared back and took a deep breath. “You’re going to walk the red carpet.”

“You know, Marinette,” Lila smiled sweetly. “I would be honored to help you navigate the world of a celebrity. The ball will be so stressful. If you needed me there, I’d be happy to attend.”

“No, thank you,” Marinette said. “My siblings have promised to guide me through. It will be a bonding experience.”

Lila forced a smile on her face, “Of course.” She fought the desire to scream and throw a tantrum. How could this happen?

Adrien on the other hand fought to keep the smile on his face. His father would not be pleased. He had instructed Adrien to get close to Marinette, and thus the Wayne family. Adrien hadn’t had the courage to tell his father that they weren’t friends anymore. And that because of the lack of friendship, the Agreste were not invited to the party of the year.

Marinette went to bed that day with a smile on her face. The Christmas season may have started off rocky but it would get better.

Suddenly her phone started buzzing like it was on fire.

The first text she read was from Chloe: You’re dating Roy Queen?!!!!

Marinette’s entirely body froze. Who?

Suddenly, she got another text… From Jason: Hey Baby Bats, I need a favor! Can you fake date my friend Roy. I already told everyone you guys were a thing. Bruce is freaking out! Thanks! Love you.

Her mouth dropped, raged filled her entire body. And then she remembered how she joked with Alya that she wanted a boyfriend last year for Christmas last year.

“FUCK SANTA!”

#ml salt #batfamily #Marinette deserves better #Marienette Dupain Cheng #bruce #bruce wayne #damian wayne #alya salt

3K notes · View notes

gameofdrarry · 3 years

Text

Wizards Hearts Recs: Werewolf Creature!Fic

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 Embers by shiftylinguini Rated: Explicit Words: 41216 Tags: Post-Hogwarts, First Time, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Draco Malfoy, Omega Harry Potter, Werewolves, Heat Companion Harry Potter, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Masturbation, Knotting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Scent Marking, Scent Kink, Come Marking, Dirty Talk, sexual negotiation, H/D Career Fair 2017 Summary: Werewolf Alphas aren't meant to be alone, or to suppress their ruts indefinitely like Draco has been since he was bitten eight years ago. He needs company, companionship, to knot ― he needs an Omega Heat Companion. At least, that’s what the Healers say, and even Draco can admit contacting the person they’ve referred him to might be nice. Of course it turns out to be bloody Potter. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Heart Like Neon by lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill) Rated: Explicit Words: 41103 Tags: Sex Work, Sex worker Harry Potter, Rentboys, rentboy Harry potter, Past Harry/Ginny - Freeform, past Draco/Theo, Harry/OMC - Freeform, Trans Male Character, Trans Female Character, Switching, Transphobia, Tattoos, hung harry, POV Alternating, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Rimming, Comeplay, Watersports, Duelling, Facials Summary: Bored of being The Chosen One, Harry discovers he rather likes sex and becomes a professional. He’s good at it, and part of why is that he can read people. Not minds, not Legilimens, but their whole self, and he can give them what they don’t even know they want. Enter Draco fucking Malfoy, enigma to everyone, including himself. Harry can’t help but want to break into him, to figure him out. And Draco, thinking he’ll fuck Potter on a lark, has no idea what he’s in for. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Who we are in the shadows by Quicksilvermaid Rated: Explicit Words: 99714 Tags: Dubious Consent, werewolf instincts, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, child trafficking, Brief Claustrophobia, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Past minor character death, Past Child Death, Bigotry & Prejudice, prejudice against werewolves, internalized prejudice, Murder, Stabbing, Poison, Hallucinations, Creature Fic, Werewolf Harry, Werewolves, Auror Harry Potter, Case Fic, Masturbation, wanking, werewolf attack, Aural Voyeurism, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Biting, Marking, Claiming, Scenting, Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Rough Sex, Edging, Secrets, Lies, Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Bed, Loyalty, Loyalty Bond, Bonding, Angst, Domestic, Falling In Love, Enemies to Lovers, Self-Acceptance, Emotional Growth, Angst with a Happy Ending, References to Auror Brutality, H/D Erised 2019, Comeplay, Wall Sex, sex without lube, Identity Porn, Secret Identity Summary: What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost. But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy's world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself. What happens when you’re forced to see that you were wrong? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Elusive Mate by 0idontknow0 Rated: Explicit Words: 25786 Tags: Rating: NC17, Fanart, Creature Fic Summary: Harry had done it (a) to save lives and (b) because the idea of him being Malfoy’s mate was clearly ridiculous, but now he had to tell Malfoy. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Finding A Place To Call Home by marysiak Rated: Explicit Words: 54747 Tags: Alternate Universe, Creature Fic, Werewolves, Post-Hogwarts, Rough Sex, Top Draco Malfoy, Bottom Harry Summary: Feeling directionless after the war, Harry is unexpectedly torn out of his own universe and thrust into another, where he must hide out with Remus Lupin, Teddy and Draco Malfoy as Severus Snape and Hermione try to find a way to send him home and save both his and his unwitting doppelganger's lives. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 as much a light as a flame by p1013 Rated: Explicit Words: 6303 Tags: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Mating Rituals, Werewolf Draco Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy, Knotting, Scent Kink, Mating Bond, Outdoor Sex, Anal Sex, Comeplay, Art, Claiming, H/D Sex Fair 2020 Summary: His mother paints a wolf on his chest, its eyes bracketing his heart, and its muzzle pointed towards his groin. His aunt fills in the spaces around his waist and ribs with symbols he's lost the meaning of in the wash of whatever plant had been mixed in with the steam. They move after her brush leaves his skin, turning from incomprehensible marks to his name to wolf to home to hunt and then back to misunderstanding again. His legs are painted in patterned bands, starting from his ankles and ending at his upper thighs. His groin is left unmarked, the pale and empty skin meant to leave no doubt of the Claim once he makes it. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Burning the Ground by lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill), traintracks Rated: Explicit Words: 10256 Tags: A/B/O-ish dynamic, Were-Creatures, Knotting, Rough Sex, Anal Sex, Bondage, Blow Jobs, sex on the floor, Rimming, Auror Harry Potter, Healer Draco Malfoy, Mildly Dubious Consent Summary: "Strap him down," someone said, and Harry felt the rage thicken inside him -- the viscous fear. Magical bindings pulled taut around his wrists . . . He felt a wand touch his arm and then a sharp bite as something punctured the skin, and a sweet, cool tonic rushed his veins. His breathing slowed. His eyelids drooped. The ceiling went grey and dark. And then he heard a woman's voice sigh, "Someone, get Healer Malfoy." ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Omega's Binding by Madriddler Rated: Explicit Words: 49405 Tags: Hogwarts Sixth Year, Alpha/Omega, Omega Harry, Werewolves, Knotting, Fluff and Angst, Anal Fingering, Size Kink, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Watersports, No Horcruxes Summary: After a violent encounter, Harry Potter is turned into a werewolf. An Omega Werewolf, to be exact. Now dealing with heats and the ability to get pregnant, Harry must learn to live with his new forms and life, while a desire for revenge fuels him. Will he be able to resist his heat and vengeance? Or will he fall into an instinctual lust, and look for his Alpha? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Light More Beautiful by firethesound Rated: Explicit Words: 81255 Tags: Hogwarts Sixth Year, Dubious Consent, Potions Accident, Post-Hogwarts, Aurors, Returning Home, Owls, Drinking, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Shower Sex, Masturbation in Shower, Knotting, Rimming, Falling In Love, Case Fic, Loss of Virginity, Acronyms, Motorcycles, Christmas, Quidditch, Pining Summary: Thirteen years after Draco accepts Potter's help escaping the horror of his sixth year, he returns to England where he makes the unfortunate discovery that Potter is still as obnoxious as ever. And worse, more than a decade overseas hasn't been enough to dim Draco's obsession with him. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Run With Me by dragontara Rated: Mature Words: 16738 Tags: Animagus, Creature Fic, Werewolf Draco, Animagus Harry, Bottom Draco, Bonding, Knotting, snarky Draco Summary: Draco and Harry meet in the Forbidden Forest in their wolf forms falling fast and hard and eventually bonding with each other. Unfortunately bonding in their animal forms doesn't mean they are happily bonded straight away in a real life too. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Taro Milk Tea with a side of Depression by VeelaWings Rated: Mature Words: 1073 Tags: Pre-Slash, Screenplay/Script Format, Conversations, Veela Draco Malfoy, Werewolf Harry Potter, Guidance Counselors, in therapy, Depression, Self-Hatred, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Morbid Humor, Inappropriate Behavior from a Professional, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020 Summary: Draco sat through twenty grievous minutes of Ministry-mandated group therapy for Newly Registered Magical Beings & Creatures — then promptly stormed out. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Blood Moon Rising by noelleification Rated: Mature Words: 38322 Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Werewolf Draco Malfoy, Wolfstar is canon, Sirius Black Lives, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Draco Malfoy is a Little Shit, Adoption, Slowburn Adoption, Drarry might happen at some point, idk - Freeform, Remus and Sirius adopt draco, Remus and Sirius as dads, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, So much angst, seriously get ready for angst, Abusive Lucius Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Harry Potter but it's ridiculously gay, Gay Draco Malfoy, Gay Disaster Draco Malfoy, Trans Hermione Granger, Because we don't support TERFS in this household, Yearning, Sirius and Remus are in love but it doesn't mean they're smart enough to know it yet, so get ready for them to pine for awhile, uhhhhhh just have tissues ready I guess, I'm gonna try my hardest to make you cry, You're gonna suffer..., But you're gonna be... happy about it?, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, traumatized Draco, Draco Malfoy Has Issues, Tonks is best girl, Tonks as lesbian wine aunt, Tonks has big sister vibes, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks Never Happened, Everyone is LGBT, because fuck jk rowling, Found Family, Whump, this shit hurted, Parental Remus Lupin, Parental Sirius Black, Torture, Aftermath of Torture, this shit gets dark yall, just be prepared Summary: Draco Malfoy is cursed. Ever since Fenrir Greyback ripped him to shreds, Draco has transformed into a monster every month on the full moon. The change is painful, and living with Lucius Malfoy might be worse. But Draco is strong. He doesn’t need anyone, especially not Remus Lupin. Remus Lupin might be the only person in the world who understands what Draco is going through—but he has enough on his plate, between the still-raging wizarding war, the publicized nature of his status as a werewolf, and his best friend, Sirius Black, who Remus might think of in a more-than-friendly way. He certainly can’t take in a seventeen-year-old Death Eater—can he? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 A Howling Good Time by FleetofShippyShips Rated: Explicit Words: 5819 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Established Relationship, Werewolf Draco Malfoy, Full Moon, werewolf/human sex, Transformed Werewolf/Human Sex, Knotting, Consent Given Prior, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Morning After, Aftercare (delayed?), Scent Kink, Fluff, (hahaha both literal and emotional), Don't copy to another site, Come Scent Kink (i.e. some post-sex bum sniffing) Summary: They’d talked about this, and Draco had agreed that he would try it for Harry, once Harry had convinced him he was utterly serious and not fucking with him. The timing, however, was entirely up to Harry, and he'd decided tonight, this full moon, was the night. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Am I a werewolf? by a_reader_and_writer Rated: General Words: 1230 Tags: Werewolves, Curses, Drarropoly 2.0 - A Drarry Game/Fest, Dramatic Draco Malfoy, Boyfriends, Fluff and Crack Summary: Draco is hit by the werewolf curse. The healers send him home and tell Harry and him to watch the symptoms. Of course this isn't as easy as it sounds with our drama queen Draco. ❤️ Read on AO3

#werewolves #drarry #drarry recs #game of drarry #wizards hearts #wh masterlist

24 notes · View notes

siyurikspakvariisis · 3 years

Note

📓?

Mara and Savathûn meet for tea, conversation and mutual murder.

The tea is a deadly Hive blend that Mara can tolerate by virtue of having a throne world, Techeun magic and mithridatism.

She adds milk to ruin Savathûn's metabolism.

They are best enemies who bond over absent brothers and show their mutual respect through increasingly over-the-top murder attempts.

Little by little, they notice their goals converge.

#i know mithridatism doesn't work shhhhh #this is very cracky but #destiny #savathûn #mara sov #ask game

9 notes · View notes

scoutsbattlecats · 3 years

Text

Merlelight

Medicine Cat

Petite mostly-black tortoiseshell she-cat

245 moons at death (20 years) (cause of death: old age, heart stopped in sleep)

Mother: Gentlebreeze

Father: Unknown

Brother: Steadyheart

Mentor: Cottonwind

Apprentice: Tansybloom

Merlekit her brother, Steadykit, were born long before any other living cats, to Gentlebreeze. The calico queen was very secretive about the father of her kits, and refused to explain the meaning of “Merle”.

Of the two kits, the tortoiseshell she-kit was only about half the size of the black tom, causing Steadykit to start a lifelong habit of calling her “little sister”, much to Merlekit’s frustration. It’s not known which one was truly born first, as Gentlebreeze hadn’t even bothered to call for the medicine cat when she kitted.

Riverclan had just lost most of its warriors to a Greencough outbreak and a dog attack around the time that Steadykit and Merlekit were born, and Gentlebreeze was forced to return to her warrior duties before her kits were ready to leave the nursery. Unfortunately, one night during a patrol, a dog was once again loose in the clan’s territory, and Gentlebreeze was unable to get away, leaving her kits orphans.

Merlekit and Steadykit no longer needed milk when she died, but after her death they leaned on each other more than ever, as much as Steadykit annoyed his sister. This bond would be lifelong, and Steadyheart would be the only cat that would never doubt that Merlelight enjoyed his company, and who only ever had kind words to say about his sister, no matter how many times she hissed or swatted at him in her annoyance at his stupid jokes.

Before she left the nursery, Merlekit witnessed the dog once again return, this time to the camp, and attempt to take kittens from the nursery. The permanent nursery queen, Petalrain, defended the kits in the nursery, ultimately giving her life in the process. Later on, most of the kits she gave her life to save, would die when an illness swept through the clans. Seeing this, Merlekit decided that a queen’s life would always be more valuable than her kits’, that kits were potential but not a promise, and these views stuck with her throughout her training and life.

Merlekit never wanted to be a warrior. While Steadykit thought fighting was fun and couldn’t wait to start warrior training, the tortoiseshell thought it was all pointless danger. She knew right away that she would become a medicine cat, even though her mentor-to-be, Cottonwind, was infamous for his erratic and radical behavior, and Merlekit wasn’t looking forward to working with him.

At six moons, Merlepaw became Cottonwind’s apprentice, and the old white cat told her many strange stories while teaching her everything he knew about being a medicine cat. Cottonwind was a Goldstar sympathizer, the second of the final pair of Skyclan leaders, whose murder ultimately ended with the dissolving of the clan. Given his views, Cottonwind was fascinated by Twolegs, often repeating the old Goldstar motto: “Cats belong alone or in the house, and everything else is foolishness.”

Despite the old cat’s code-breaking viewpoints on living with Twolegs, he was a skilled and respected medicine cat, and he taught Merlepaw well. He would not, however, make her a full medicine cat without having her see what Twolegs were able to do.

One night, on the way home from the half moon gathering, Cottonwind told Merlepaw that they’d be taking a new route home. The tortoiseshell resisted at first, being all-too-aware of the old cat’s strange and illogical tendencies at this point, but eventually gave in and followed him.

Cottonwind eventually ended up getting Merlelight trapped in a Twoleg trap; one of the traps they used to capture wild cats, bring them in to the cutter, and then bring them back. The Twolegs took Merlepaw away, bringing her into a strange building that smelled like ammonia and fear.

It was here she met a kittypet named Vixen, who lived in the building and called herself “the office cat”. While Merlepaw was not friendly at first, as one might expect, the orange and white she-cat eventually grew on her. Vixen told Merlepaw that the Twolegs had said she was very sick, but it’s not unusual for wild cats, and that they’d make her better. Merlepaw felt fine, but Vixen explained that healthy cats don’t have fleas on their pelt or worms in their bellies, an idea that confused Merlepaw as she’d never known a cat who didn’t have at least a few fleas.

Days past, and at Vixen’s insistence, Merlepaw began to cooperate with the Twolegs, and accept their strange medicines. The tortoiseshell began to feel more comfortable than she’d ever felt her entire life, and when she asked Vixen what herbs the Twolegs used, the she-cat responded that they weren’t herbs, certainly not something they could find in any forest nearby, and that the best guess she had was that Twolegs were magical.

Eventually the Twolegs gave Merlepaw medicine that made her fall asleep, and she woke up with a belly ache and a torn ear. In a panic she asked Vixen what had happened, and the ginger she-cat explained that it was painful now, but once it healed, Merlepaw’s life would be extended and her annoying heat cycles would stop, and it was more Twoleg magic.

A few days later, the Twolegs pricked Merlepaw’s with multiple needles, and then put her back in the trap she’d been caught in, taking her back to the spot she’d been captured from. Before returning to Riverclan, Merlepaw decided to say goodbye to Vixen, who she’d grown quite fond of.

She travelled a short distance and found the cat curled up in the window of a Twoleg nest, one that smelled like the place she’d spent the last few weeks in. The cat was very happy to see her, but refused to come outside, saying that she has to stay safe indoors, and she wished Merlepaw could stay inside too.

Upon her leaving, Vixen asked Merlelight to make sure she lived longer than the other ferals she saw in her office. She added that self preservation was the most important thing, and that’s why it was best for cats to stay inside, with Twolegs.

Begrudgingly, Merlepaw returned to Riverclan, where Cottonwind made her a full medicine cat. Her mentor eventually snuck away from camp and was never seen again, leaving her to work alone - something that she absolutely preferred.

Years passed, and Merlelight was a skilled and respected medicine cat. Her brother Steadyheart was praised for his skill in battle and loyalty to his clan, but there was one problem - his “appreciation” for she-cats. As a result of his vices, the surrounding area was filling up more and more black kittens with familiar green eyes, causing Merlelight a severe amount of embarrassment. Only two of Steadyheart’s kits, his daughters Pineneedle and Ripplestream, were full-clan cats, and the only ones Steadyheart got to be a father to all the time.

Pineneedle was an irresponsible and immature cat, and Merlelight would regularly admit that while she didn’t like either of her nieces, she felt that Ripplestream was the superior cat. Still, when Pineneedle showed up in her den, expecting a local kittypet’s kits that she didn’t want, she felt obligated to help her brother’s kin.

Pineneedle gave birth to a litter of kits. By the next sunrise, however, the she-cat had snuck away, never to return to the clans. Merlelight was unsurprised, but there were no other nursing queens to take in the kits, and all Starclan told her to do was “save at least one of them”.

One by one each kit died, until the only one left was a brown tom who Pineneedle had crudely named “Dirtkit”. Merlelight instructed the warriors to seek out prey that had a milk scent, and bring it to the medicine den, and that they did. While the kit was scrawny and weak, Merlelight was able to get him past weaning age. The kit frequently asked why Merlelight didn’t use a name for him, but she never answered, and frequently sent him away lest he show interest in becoming her apprentice.

Eventually Merlelight lost her patience with the kit bombarding her with questions, and she told him everything about his mother and his name. The brown tabby did not react well, storming away and vowing to destroy the clans. He’d eventually become the leader of a group of former Skyclan cats and rogues that would plague the clans and kill countless cats for generations to come.

Years later, and Merlelight was a very old cat. She preferred to work alone, and had no interest in taking an apprentice. However, when the apprentice Tansypaw’s mentor died in combat and the orange tabby developed a tendency to panic and freeze when confronted with any sort of violence, Merlelight was forced to take her on as her apprentice. She did not want to give up her solitude, but she admitted that as far as young cats go, Tansypaw had a good head on her shoulders and a great deal of intelligence.

Merlelight and Steadyheart outlived every cat they’d known in their lives, with the exception, surely, of some of Steadyheart’s countless kits. When Steadyheart’s health began to decline, Merlelight knew what was going to happen, and she stayed by her brother’s side until he breathed his last breath. His death, though he was well over 17 years old and had lived multiple lifespans, made Merlelight even more resolved to live, even when he, their mother, and numerous Starclan cats insisted she deserved to rest. Tansypaw tried to be supportive after the death of Steadyheart, but Merlelight grew more paranoid and self-preserving.

Tansypaw was Merlelight’s apprentice for well over a year, and Starclan started pushing the tortoiseshell to make her a full medicine cat. While Merlelight admitted the tabby was ready, she did not want Starclan to feel that she could die and Riverclan would still have a fully trained medicine cat. Thus Tansypaw was Tansypaw for longer than most other apprentices, though the cat wasn’t in any sort of hurry.

After a stern scolding and vague threats from Quailstar, the clan leader during Merlelight’s birth, the old medicine cat caved. She named Tansybloom, and she knew that doing so meant her days were officially numbered.

Merlelight started having strange experiences. First, one day while she was foraging for herbs, a fox with strange starry eyes burst out of the woods and attacked her. She was a lithe cat though, and she was able to escape unharmed.

The next day, a hawk flying above Merlelight’s favorite lounging spot by the river, dropped a turtle right above where the medicine cat was resting. Fogwhisker spotted it and warned her, allowing Merlelight to rolled out of the way right it time.

Then, during a breakout of a strange illness, a severe thunderstorm raged as Merlelight had to fetch herbs from her den back in the camp. One of trees was struck by lightning, very nearly crashing down on the old cat. She was beginning to get incredibly irritable at that point, and could barely focus on her medicine duties, as she was too busy dodging death.

After two moons of escaping many different near-death experiences - dog attacks, herbs blowing into the thunderpath, attempted drownings, and greencough, Merlelight was exhausted. She’d taken herbs every night to keep her from dreaming and speaking to her warrior ancestors, and refused to go to half-moon gatherings lest Starclan throw something else at her.

One night, she took her herbs and went to sleep. When she opened her eyes, she found herself in Starclan - which confused her, as she’d taken her herbs for the night. Steadyheart and Gentlebreeze soon appeared, gently informing her that she would not be returning to her body. Tired of Merlelight escaping death, Starclan was forced to stop her heart as she slept.

She did not take this well, calling her brother and mother cowards and refusing to speak to them or anyone for at least a moon and snarling at anyone who attempted.

Then, she discovered how to communicate with living cats. She began to contact Tansybloom constantly, giving her input on every issue practically every day. Most of Starclan felt this was excessive, but preferred this behavior to the sulky and angry behavior she’d exhibited before.

When Tansybloom was attacked by one of the rogue cats and nearly died protecting Frostkit, Merlelight revived her, unwilling to allow Riverclan to be without a medicine cat. When Tansybloom died, Merlelight would painstakingly supervise Frostberry, contacting them just as often as they had their mentor. She warned them that Duckkit was dangerous and shouldn’t be allowed to make it to apprenticeship, and was frustrated when the medicine cat wouldn’t dispatch the premature kit at birth. Later on, however, she would meet with Duckpaw and teach him, in hopes she might sway him from his path. In this she ultimately failed.

Eventually Starclan had enough of Merlelight’s meddling with the living. As a punishment, Starclan decided that Merlelight had to be stopped. One morning, Merlelight woke up in the Thunderclan nursery, the first face she saw being Pigeonfluff’s, her much-hated Thunderclan rival. She’d been put in the body of a newborn Thunderclan kit, named Burntkit due to her orange coat with black speckles, the inverse of Merlelight.

Burntkit was in the medicine den long before she was apprenticed, scolding Pigeonfluff and giving him instructions, which the old gray cat finds incredibly amusing. While the kit always seems angry, both Pigeonfluff and his underling Toothcrag take it in good humor, which just frustrates the small angry animal more.

Personality:

Merlelight is not a kind cat. While she is a medicine cat, she does not have the nurturing or sympathetic nature that one might expect. When Tansypaw was her apprentice, queens would often wait until Merlelight was out gathering herbs to bring in their kits with minor injuries and illnesses, as most kits learned to fear Merlelight from an early age. This is no problem for Merlelight, who hates kits.

Merlelight is serious, reserved, inexpressive, and unemotional. Above all else she values logic and practicality, and gets annoyed at the emotional decision making of others.

While she’s by and large a cold-hearted cat, she does have a soft spot for a few individuals in her life. Her brother Steadyheart has been by her side her entire life, and she enjoys his company, even though she wishes he would stop fathering kits and take things seriously for once and will often berate him for both. She appreciates Tansybloom and her calm demeanor, and is willing to look the other way when it comes to Frostkit despite the rule about medicine cats not having kits. And when it comes to Vixen, the charming kittypet she met all those years ago - she deeply admired her, and thinks about her often, taking her advice to self-preserve above all to heart.

Merlelight had a quick temper, a sharp tongue, and very little patience, and she was very stubborn and independent. She saw fighting as beneath her and was able to go 20 years without ever being in a serious physical confrontation. She was very crafty and resourceful. She also loved her clan and would have continued to serve it until they disappeared entirely, which is why she was so reluctant to die and why she kept interfering after death.

#merlelight #profiles #don’t make a 20 year old cat character unless you want to have to include 20 years of story

12 notes · View notes

samingtonwilson · 4 years

Text

Apartment 8C - Chapter 2

Finding Your Independence

SERIES MASTERLIST // PREVIOUS PART

Summary: college au. you and bucky are the closest of friends, the most functional of roommates, and… exes. but just because it didn’t work out romantically doesn’t mean he has to move out! it’s not like he’s so deeply in love that he can barely breathe. totally not in love. at all. not even a little. maybe.

Pairing: bucky x reader

Warnings: language

A/N: the chapter title is ironic because this chapter is about how dependent these two are on each other.

A scream startles you from accidental sleep. Deep, broken, and utterly terrified.

It’s half-past six. Your room is bathed in gold. Fading sunlight and emerging city lights leak through the thin drapes over your windows. You set your chin onto an open textbook.

Your eyes open narrowly. You need to listen carefully. You could have dreamt the scream.

A slow second passes, your eyes nearly shut, and then—

Another scream. This time of your name. Your eyes snap back open.

You flip the pen you fell asleep holding, gripping it as a weapon while groggily— but with great haste, of course— climbing out of bed.

Heartbeat in your ears, you sigh and kick away the thick purple blanket your feet are tangled in, throwing your door open to an empty living room.

The front door is shut, your television hasn’t been ripped from the wall, everything is in its place. Even Bucky’s laptop sits undisturbed on the coffee table next to an almost totally flat bag of Doritos.

You tilt your head.

From behind the bathroom door, your name is screamed again. And a whimper punctuates it.

In all your time of knowing Bucky, you’ve never once heard him so terrified.

You swallow over the tension tightening your throat and pick up the first semi-threatening object you see: the penis-shaped vase Bucky had “unintentionally” made in ceramics during the semester he’d devoted to discovering his artistic side.

You toss the pink peonies it houses aside and grip the vase tightly, pen poised in your other hand. You use your elbow to open the door, eyes narrowed and teeth gritted in an attempt to look tough. Objects held above your head, you’re about to strike when—

When you see Bucky standing on top of the toilet. Towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist, chestnut hair dripping, his blue eyes wild. He’s also pale as a ghost, but his fearful expression takes only seconds to shift into one of confusion.

One which matches yours. “You’re not being murdered?”

“No!” he shouts back to meet your volume. He points at the glass wall enclosing the shower, finger shaking. “There’s a fucking spider in there!”

Your teeth grit again. But this time in anger. “You shrieked like someone was beheading you over a spider?”

Seconds later, you gasp dramatically as you ask, “You woke me up from a nap over a spider?”

He at least has the decency to be sheepish. “S’a big spider.”

“You’re six-feet tall and have, like, 185 pounds on that spider.”

“Size doesn’t matter. I raise you the poisonous spiders of Australia.”

Nodding, you hold out your forearm to help Bucky off the toilet seat. You grunt at the weight of him.

Maybe 185 is a stingy estimation.

“Okay, I see your poisonous spiders of Australia and raise you ‘we’re in New fucking York, Bucky.’”

Standing on the floor now, he winces when you use the back of your hand to slap his bicep. “There are poisonous spiders in New York, too, okay? We’re all afraid of something.”

Silence as you regard him, a sigh as you concede. “Okay.” You ignore his victorious smile. “I’ll take care of it. Can you just turn the water off, please?”

“And get close to that thing again?” he demands, outrage clear in his voice. He tries to keep his towel in place with one hand as he gesticulates with the other. “No! You do it.”

“My clothes will get wet and I’m not in the mood to strip for you right now.”

He smiles at that. “S’not like I haven’t seen it all before.”

“Yeah? You wanna make ‘we’ve fucked before’ jokes right now? When the fate of you ever using this bathroom again is in my hands?”

An almost pathetic whimper and he relents with hands held up in surrender. He approaches the shower slowly and, with a scowl, reaches for the knob once, twice, three times before finally gripping it and turning it to the left.

Once the steady stream of water is reduced to mere drops, Bucky stands back and sends you a glare. “Happy?”

“Elated.” You set your weapons on the counter and rip off two sheets of paper towel.

“Kill it quickly.”

“I’m not gonna kill it.”

He snorts as he stands leant against the doorframe. “What, are you gonna adopt it as the apartment pet?”

“No, funny guy. I’m gonna let it go on the balcony.”

“What if it comes back in?”

“Then we’ll get the Five Families together and let the Mafia handle it.”

When you finally spot the thick, quarter-sized spider, you inhale through your nose and step into the shower stall slowly. You brace yourself with one hand wrapped around the edge of the glass wall. Your features are pinched.

Bucky grins at the sight. “You scared, baby?”

A sarcastic bark of laughter, and you crack one eye open. You almost convince him. “Please.”

It takes little coaxing for the brown spider to crawl onto the paper towel and you immediately fold each side of it closed. There’s a soft scratch of the spider’s legs against the paper walls, more felt than heard, and you forcefully choke back vomit.

You bump into Bucky as you race out of the bathroom, his towel very nearly slipping from his fingers, and don’t slow your steps until you’re across the living room and have pushed the balcony doors open.

Carefully, you unfold one side of the makeshift cocoon and squeal quietly to yourself as the spider stumbles into a flower box attached to the metal rail. It quickly scurries behind a wilting tulip and you make a mental note to water the plants more.

“You were coming to protect me with this?”

Bucky, now dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of navy blue sweatpants, is holding the penis vase when you turn. He stands at a safe distance, shielded by the door, and has the nerve to wear a shit-eating grin. “You know there’s a baseball bat behind the couch, right?”

“Now I do.”

“I also gave you pepper spray when you enrolled in that nine PM lecture,” he adds as you walk through the door and right past him. He places the vase back on its shelf and nods his head toward the kitchen. “There are knives right there, too.”

You pick up the bag of Doritos, confirm that it is indeed empty, and frown. “Disgusting. I’d never stab someone.”

“Even if they were murdering me like you thought?” He takes the bag from you and balls it up to throw in the trash. He wants to open the refrigerator but knows the groceries he forgot to buy won’t magically appear on the shelves.

“Knives are such a cliché, everyone uses knives. He’d see it coming.” You grin at Bucky through the explanation from your favorite corner of the couch and he stills behind the kitchen counter. “The key is throwing him off his rhythm. Penis vase serves that purpose.”

He laughs, albeit a bit oddly, rolling his eyes as he opens the Notes app on his phone. And he draws a blank. “What, uh— What foods do you like?”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you have any favorite foods?”

He’s met with silence.

He decides to explain. Sort of. “Like, what do you want to eat most of the time? What is it that you crave? Food-wise,” he adds with a cocked eyebrow. “What is it you know how to make that you enjoy eating? Are you acting out of lunacy again and dieting for no fuckin’ reason?”

Seconds go by and you have yet to answer. He looks up from his phone and answers the question over your features with, “Just out of curiosity.”

“Not because you have zero idea what to buy from the store?”

“Can’t a guy wonder what his friend, ex-girlfriend, and roommate is eating these days? Just for fun? To bond?”

Your eyes narrow into a glare. “Not when that guy is you and it’s your turn to go grocery shopping. I thought I gave you a list a few days ago.”

“You yell random items at me on your way out the door for class and I’m expected to remember it all?”

“You yelled your feelings at me constantly and I was expected to remember it all,” you return as you rise from the couch and draw closer to him only to sit in one of the barstools at the counter. You watch as he opens his Notes application again and stare as he struggles to come up with anything. “Green apples, white peaches, red bell peppers, yellow onions. Don’t look at me like that. The colors are important.”

“Yeah, yeah. What are you doing for dinner? Might take me some time to decipher colors at the store.”

Chin propped up on your palm, you slide his phone over and ignore his expression of protest to add eggs, sourdough bread, avocados, pre-cut mushrooms, celery, hummus, whatever pasta is shaped like a spiral, tortilla chips, oat milk, any flavor of microwave popcorn Wanda won’t finish, and for God’s sake, you fucking wreck, buy your own gum for once to the grocery list.

“S’okay. I’m not really hungry anyway.”

“You’re always hungry.”

You gasp in offense with a small, contradictory smile. “How dare you? That’s not something you say to a lady.”

He smiles sarcastically before rolling his eyes. “If you need me to rush so you can make something, I will.”

“Too tired to make anything. Also just too untalented to.”

“Come with me, then. We can stop somewhere on the way back.” He sees you begin to refuse and cuts you off with a quick, “I’ll pay.”

“If you think you paying for my food is incentive enough for me to put on human pants and walk out that door,” you begin, pointing at the door, “then you’re absolutely correct. Give me a second to put jeans on.”

You hear Bucky’s chuckle as you walk into your room, tossing away that pair of fleece pants your mother had begged you to burn to ash the last time you’d seen her and replacing them with a pair of jeans your mother had also begged you to burn to ash. “How do you feel about Sam and Nat?”

“About Sam, negatively. About Tasha, positively.” He’s patting the pockets of his sweats and tossing couch cushions every which way to look under them, hair in disarray, when you hop into the room with only your right boot on. In a mumbled, barely present voice, he adds, “So I guess that balances out to feeling neutral about them together.”

Slipping on and zipping up your left boot, you cock an eyebrow at the elephant throw pillow which is sent smacking against your ankles. “Have you lost something?”

He doesn’t look up from the sofa as he replies, “Keys. Where the shit are my fucking keys?”

“D’you check the cabinet closest to the fridge?”

“Why the fuck—”

You sigh and begin to set the cushions back where they belong, placing the elephant gingerly at the center of the couch. “Just check.”

Bucky’s grumbles as he passes by, his scoffs of disbelief, and sighs of annoyance are ignored until you hear his every noise abruptly end as he stares at the cabinet he is now standing before.

“Find ‘em?”

There are equal parts shock, fear, and exasperation over his features. He slams the cabinet shut. “You’re a witch, aren’t you? Some kind of freaky, all knowing witch?”

“Yes. Do you have your wallet?”

A pat on each of his pockets, then one against his ass— despite not having a pocket there. He bares his teeth for a moment. “You wanna tell me where that is, too?”

“Can I get three guesses this time?”

“Two,” he states, leaning against the counter. “Impress me.”

“First of all, I couldn’t give half a shit about impressing you.” Bucky snorts at that. “It’s either in the freezer—”

He opens the freezer and the next thing you hear is a loud, “Ha! Whoo! You’re wrong!”

“I have another guess.”

He visibly deflates, smug smile wiped clean. “Yeah, yeah. Go on.”

“Counter of your bathroom, in the pocket of whatever jeans you wore to class.”

You run a few steps behind his long strides to the bathroom and stand in the doorway as he fishes through the pile of dirty clothes beside the sink.

He thinks he might hate the smile you’re wearing when he pulls his wallet from the depths of denim, but he can’t bring himself to hate it— he feels quite the opposite about it, actually. It’s worth the inevitable gloating and the crazy accurate interpretation of a celebratory dance you saw a football player you can’t remember the name of do after a touchdown.

You’re laughing when he brushes past you to walk to the door and grin as you pass him so he can lock it behind you. “What would you do without me, Buck?”

He honestly doesn’t know.

—

Your laughter captures Bucky’s attention. Delighted, excited, and entirely too loud.

He’s been nursing a red Solo cup of lukewarm supermarket-brand cola for about two hours now.

It’s disgusting. Watered-down now that the ice has melted, but still too sweet and a little flat. He would’ve liked to cut it with the bitterness of anything alcoholic, but he can’t.

He’s designated driver tonight, after all. The miserable result of a miserable coin toss.

He’d suggested thumb wrestling— but you weren’t having it. Something about his thumb being far larger than yours, giving him an unfair advantage. Almost as if you’d known he’d chosen thumb wrestling for that precise reason.

So he’s spent the night pouting.

Complaining.

Glowering at anyone that dares to make conversation with him.

Because he hates the cheap soda Steve buys. He hates the sticky counters Sam waits hours to wipe down. And he hates hearing underclassmen talk about how hot you are when your ping pong ball skates over the rim of one of Natasha’s cups.

But he smiles at the sound of your laughter. At the way you grin, all smug and victorious. It lights up otherwise glossy eyes, drunken giggles growing clumsy as Natasha frowns down at a cup matching his.

“You gotta drink it down, babe!” You lean your hip against the plastic table set up in the kitchen and purse your lips when Natasha fishes the beer-soaked ball from her cup to toss at your shoulder. “Poor sportsmanship is unbecoming on you.”

Natasha rolls green eyes over the top of the cup, chugging its contents easily. “Just like cockiness is on you.”

“Let’s not lie to ourselves, Nat.” Natasha is already struggling against a smile. “We all know cockiness is dead sexy on me.”

Beside Bucky, Sam laughs. He raises his hands in innocence and surrender when Natasha shoots him a glare. “Not pickin’ sides, that was just funny.”

“You’re not picking your girlfriend’s side automatically?” is Bucky’s question asked in a voice exaggeratedly naïve. He grins lopsidedly as he takes a sip of soda only to retch as it goes down. “That’s brave.”

You watch as Natasha pitches her next shot over the rim of one of four remaining cups. You send Bucky a smile as you retrieve it. “Bucky was always on my side when we were together.”

His devious smile is like a secret between the two of you. He hums in agreement. “Blindly.”

“Loyally.” You hold the cup at your lips, stomach and cheeks warm from three hours of generous beer and mixed drink helpings. Your next swallow goes down with a shudder.

“I’d root against myself for her.”

“S’more pathetic than loyal,” Sam snorts only to earn a squeak of indignation and an empty cup to the chest in response. Despite purported offense, he chuckles at your delighted laughter and quickly sobers to point a stern finger. “Makin’ a mess of my kitchen like this. Rogers’ll kill you.”

In challenge, you cock an eyebrow. “He’ll kill you first when he sees all the candy missing from his secret stash.”

“Barnes ate all that.”

Bucky’s stomach flips at the way you tilt your head and narrow your eyes, at the soft flutter of your eyelashes, the promise in your voice when you say, “Blind loyalty, Sammy. That isn’t the story I’ll tell Steve.”

“You aren’t even dating anymore.”

You wave a dismissive hand. “I’ll always be on Bucky’s side. Plus if I go down, I’m taking you with me.”

Pointedly at a glowering Sam, Bucky tears the wrapper of a fun-size Twix bar and takes as big a bite as the small bar will allow.

There’s caramel in his teeth and smug satisfaction in his eyes as he stuffs the gold foil into the pocket of Sam’s bomber jacket, laughing when the latter slaps his hand away.

What feels like a lifetime passes and Bucky waits until you’ve completed a second game— this time defeated by a furious and candy-less Steve— to Irish goodbye.

It’s his signature.

He hasn’t said a proper goodbye to anyone in years.

Your drunkenness, however, foils his plan. You insist on pressing kisses to the forehead of each of your friends— lingering a bit longer for Sam just to earn a snort from Natasha— and you tap the fishbowl housing a temperamental turquoise Betta fish named Marcel twice as you couldn’t just exclude Marcel and hurt his feelings. You even leave them with an ominous, “I hope we will all meet again.”

He lets you climb onto his back when you stumble out of his car to your building, tripping over the four-inch block heel of your boots, and soon the elevator stall is filled with your humming. Unintelligible, entirely out of tune. And you swing your legs. Dysrhythmic, offbeat.

He smiles when you set your chin upon the crown of his head, his hold on you tightening as the metallic doors slide open on the eighth floor. He feels the deep breath you take against his back, his attention drawn away from the short walk down the hall when your feather-like fingertips trace his jaw.

Nails skimming over the bristly hairs of his stubbly beard to the hidden divot in his chin, you— already flush against him— attempt to push yourself even closer. And huff in disappointment when you’re unable to.

You feel him come to a stop. “Sweetheart?”

A short hum, this time in question.

“I gotta unlock the door.”

You open your eyes slowly, blink away some of the drowsiness. You think offhandedly that the pale yellow door could use a fresh coat of paint. “I’ll do it.” You hold out a hand and wiggle your fingers. “Keys?”

“In my left pocket.” He chuckles when your right hand slides down the incorrect side. “Other left.”

You heave a deep sigh, your other hand slipping into his left pocket to feel around. The jingle of keys is muted by your triumphant shout, fingers sorting through the bundle of steel to find the one semi-coated in bright pink nail polish. You decide that should be repainted first lest the two of you mix up your keys again.

Bucky watches as you attempt to stretch enough to reach the doorknob, jolting each time you urge yourself forward. He grins when you whimper pathetically. “You can ask me to move closer.”

The arm still wrapped around his neck tightens a bit and you press your cheek to the roughness of his. You strain toward the door once more in stubborn perseverance, then knock your heels against the side of his thighs. He laughs at the growl in his ear.

“Ask me verbally. I’m not a horse.”

“Got the name of one,” you mumble, crossing your ankles at his waist as he grips you harder. “Longer you stand there refusing to move, the longer you have-ta hold me up.”

“Been lifting with Steve. I’m content to stand here all night.”

“What, trying to get that post-breakup revenge body?”

“Gotta do something to fill all my new free time.”

A hiccup punctuates your giggles and Bucky feels you straighten before leaning back ever so slightly.

Suddenly, you jerk forward with all of your might, sending Bucky lurching to the door. He has to remove a hand from your legs to steady himself against the wall, breath shallow and heart in his ears when he notices he’s only centimeters from smashing into the wood. “Hey!”

You, still holding on, shush him as you slip the key into the brass latch, whispering, “Our neighbors are sleeping.”

Once you’re able to throw the door open and Bucky walks inside, you detangle your ankles and leap to the floor as the lights flicker on. You laugh when your knees very nearly buckle, fingers gripping the edge of the kitchen counter under a wave of lightheadedness. Your stomach flips and every trace of humor fades. “Yikes.”

Bucky, halfway through removing the leather jacket he’d worn over a black hoodie, watches as you lay your torso across the counter. He smiles when you press your cheek to the cool marble, his laughter mingling with the groans that leave your lips.

Your muffled grumble sounds vaguely like, “Oh, shut up.”

His steps are slow and quiet. He offers you an apologetic smile when you startle at his touch, brushing stray strands of hair from your shut eyes. He wrinkles his nose at your answering scowl, watching as glassy eyes still filled with such potent brightness narrow in an attempt at intimidation. “Need a lift to your bathroom?”

You shake your head. Propping yourself up onto your forearms, you nod toward your room. “It’ll be too shaky. Maybe just guide me there?”

His fingers lace through yours and he tugs you upright. He doesn’t mind supporting the weight of you, doesn’t care that he has to dodge the books and shoes you’ve left littered over your bedroom floor.

Your bathroom light is switched on and you pull away from Bucky to take quick, stuttering steps to the toilet. He winces to himself when you fall to your knees, your trembling hands clamoring to push the seat cover up.

As you feel that maybe your stomach has turned itself inside out, Bucky gathers your hair in one hand and holds you close to his chest with the other— just in case you need the support. Until then, though, he rubs comforting circles which warm you even through the satin fabric of your shirt.

“Twix and beer are a horrible combination coming up,” you remark, voice rough, minutes later. You’re seated against him once you’ve thoroughly emptied your system, head falling back onto his shoulder. “That last game of beer pong was a mistake.”

He feels your breath wash over his skin and, despite how perfectly okay he would be with sitting there for hours, turns his head away. “Sweetheart, I want to be here for you but— but I can’t when your breath smells like that.”

Stunned pause, and you burst into laughter. Tired hands are used as leverage and you stand, boots long ago removed and thrown aside. You send him a smile over your shoulder and roll your eyes but face the sink as he grins dopily back. “You’re weak, Barnes.”

He meets your playful gaze in the mirror and, at the sight of pooled dried mascara underlining your eyes and the thin layer of sweat spread over the bridge of your nose, he forces himself to take a steadying breath. “You have no idea. Hungry?”

Loading your toothbrush with translucent paste, you shrug. “Maybe.”

“Grilled cheese or pancakes?”

“If I say both, will you judge me?”

“I just held your hair back while you threw up a keg’s worth of beer and you’re afraid I’ll start to judge you now?”

You smile as you scrub your teeth in rapid strokes. “There was some vodka in there, too.”

Shoulder leant against the doorframe, his eyes are alight. “My mistake. Anything else you’d like while I’m at it?”

“Some ibuprofen?” you ask after spitting the foam from your mouth. “I’m all out here.”

A frown of consideration, and he nods. “Will that be all?”

“Yes, I believe it will be.” Before he can walk out, you call his name. “What would I do without you?”

He honestly hopes you’ll never have to find out.

CHAPTER 3: GETTING BACK IN THE GAME

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes college au #a8c

703 notes · View notes