#were they like dropped on someone's doorstep as a baby? did they have an adoptive family?

[thronealigned]

here's the durge scene i was talking about in the tags of my last reblog yesterday - you get this if you cast Heal on them

#the other two options were along the lines of 'the memory makes you sick to your stomach' and 'ugh i was such an amateur back then' #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #this raises so many questions for me #spoilers for their questline & backstory follow!!!!! #durge wasnt *born* - they were hand-crafted by bhaal from his own gore #like it's why they have the Urge to begin with. they aren't a normal bhaalspawn #but they weren't just dropped in the world fully-formed #even without this we'd know that because sceleritas mentions a few times how they were on their own until they were an adult or nearly an #adult. at which point he came to them and led them to the temple of bhaal #which is how they picked up all their non-murder related skills. and why they're relatively normal compared to someone like orin who was #raised in the cult. or maybe not normal but better able to function in regular society #but if they werent *born* then how did they show up in the world? #were they like dropped on someone's doorstep as a baby? did they have an adoptive family? #could this have BEEN their adoptive family? #what were they like as a child before they started killing people? probably they just tortured & killed animals #i guess this is all left to the realm of headcanon

[genericpuff]

Can you tell us more about what do you think shoud have happend to thanatos? His trauma got completly over looked and I think you woud have some wise things to say about how he's written as a character

oh man, Thanatos got done so freaking dirty in LO. I can't believe they somehow took his trauma and yet again made it all about Hades and his feelings and how he was affected by the poor circumstances of someone who was literally a child who was abandoned and mistreated for years.

Never mind the gross implications that Hades wants to be a dad but couldn't even be bothered to care about the guy who got dropped on his doorstep. It reeks of "only biological family counts" energy which I know a lot of pals who were adopted as children were really pissed about. I don't blame them in the slightest.

And of course now Thanatos is obviously just 'cool' with H x P. Hades is all "haha she's your stepmom now... jk... unless?" despite the fact that she could be Thanatos' own daughter. Hades never apologizes for how he treated Thanatos in the workplace, or how he was absolutely giving Persephone special treatment. Even Thanatos' own girlfriend can't respect his feelings, not only diminishing how he felt about the Persephone situation with empty "why do you care" TherapySpeak platitudes, but also straight up allowing Hades inside into his apartment when she knows fully well how Thanatos feels about him. And now (spoiler) he's the ringbearer at their wedding. Like the child of a parent getting remarried. It's so fucking nasty.

But I mean, why tell you how it "could have gone" when I could show you?

I made these text edits a while back but idk if I ever actually posted them here? Either way, here they are (again if I have already posted them), in which I tried to tackle the Hades / Thanatos conversation way more realistically. Less Thanatos taking the blame for Hades' bullshit, less Hades and Daphne making a joke of the entire situation. It's such a shame to see the original version of this scene completely miss the point of why Thanatos was upset and acted the way he did all so we can continue to glorify the shitty relationship between the rich blue CEO and his pink sugar baby.

#idk why they even threw in this dynamic between thanatos and hades #it didn't make the story any deeper #it just further proved how much of an asshole hades is #and how much rachel will trauma bait for her own gain #lore olympus critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus #lo critical #lore olympus edit #lore olympus text edit

[wolfstardaughter-jj]

Maybe it wouldn't be so hard

Summary: What happens when a baby gets left on Regulus Black’s doorstep? 

Pairing: Father! Regulus Black / Daughter! Reader

Warnings: none

Song: j’s lullaby (darlin’ I’d wait for you) by Delaney Bailey

Word Count: 1k+ words

A/n: Got the idea to write this from an anon. Wrote this after I woke up which is kinda surprising for me.

During the war, Regulus realized he was following a very dark path that would lead to a lot of pain. Not only towards him but towards a lot of people. So he did what any good person would do. He changed sides and joined the order.

It took a lot of time to gain their trust. Most especially his brother, Sirius. But eventually, everything fell into place. 

After the war, all Regulus wanted was a peaceful life. He went on to live in a quaint Muggle town somewhere in France and was happy there. He’d frequently visit Sirius and Remus at their cottage. He visited them even more when they adopted their first child.

He thought about adopting a kid of his own, seeing how his niece made Sirius and Remus so happy. But he shrugged off the thought, thinking he wouldn’t do a very good job raising them.

But on a warm spring day, as Regulus is about to start his morning walk. He finds a picnic basket resting on his doorstep. Its sudden appearance caught him off-guard but the thing that shocked him the most was you, a baby sleeping inside. There also sat a letter attached to the basket.

Please take care of her, I’m sorry I couldn’t do it myself.

He didn’t know what else to do other than to call Remus and Sirius for help. When they heard the words “There’s a baby on my doorstep”, they immediately made their way to his house.

“What the hell am I supposed to do?!” Regulus paced around his kitchen.

“I don’t know?! It’s not everyday someone gets a baby dropped off their doorstep.” Sirius replied as he tried to coo the now crying baby in his arms.

Sirius’s daughter, who was only 3 years old, was in the living room playing with Regulus’s cat, Artemis. Remus went back to the cottage to grab a few of his daughter’s old baby things as well to the store for some baby formula. They didn’t know if you’ve eaten yet or how long you’ve been outside.

The two brothers tried to figure out a game plan. This has never happened to them and it left them completely worried for your welfare. Unfortunately, your sobs only worsened and got even louder as time went by. 

“Regulus, you try holding her for a second.” Sirius said as he started to hand you off to regulus.

“I- you shouldn-” Regulus tried to push Sirius away. He was scared he was going to drop you the second you got into his arms.

“Oh hush, you’ve done this a hundred times with little wolf.” Sirius protested as he finally got you into Regulus’s arms.

Regulus just went on auto-pilot and started rocking you back and forth while caressing your head on his shoulder. He continued to coo you till your sobs eventually died down.

Sirius was shocked at how suddenly you stopped crying. It was as if Regulus flipped a switch in you. You were no longer bawling your eyes out like you did 5 minutes ago. Instead, you were peacefully resting on Regulus’s shoulder like nothing happened.

“You- How- how did you do that?” Sirius questioned.

“I don’t know, she just stopped crying.” Regulus was just as shocked as he was. 

Regulus changed his position and had you lying in his arms. He looked down to see you trying to grab the stray hairs that were hanging above you. He grinned as he saw the look on your face. 

“So are you gonna take her in?” Sirius asked.

Regulus looked up from you and towards his brother. He felt like giving you up would be something he would regret in the long run. He knew taking you in would be a big responsibility and would change his life forever but he didn’t care. Having you in his arms brought a warm feeling to his chest and he loved it.

He felt happier than he’s ever been in a while. Anxious and Worried? Sure. But that only reminded him that he cared. That you were now in his care. He wasn’t planning on parting with you anytime soon. 

There was a sinking feeling that he would mess up at being a parent. Mess up the way his parents did. But at that moment, he promised himself he would never become them. That he would be a better parent than any of them would ever try to be.

He took in a deep breath and looked back down at you. His grin grew when he saw you let out a laugh. “Yeah, I am.”

The fireplace lit up and Remus walked through holding a bunch of old baby stuff.

He joined his husband and brother-in-law in the kitchen, dropping the bags on the kitchen countertop. Remus let out a sigh as he planted his hands on the surface while looking at Regulus.

“So, from the look on your face. I’m assuming you’re going to keep her?” Remus asked.

Regulus confirmed his suspicion with a light nod with a grin.

“What are you going to name her?” Sirius asked.

Regulus thought about it for a moment. If he was being honest, when he was still at Hogwarts, he thought about what he would name his future kids. He thought he’d have to think about it since his parents would always talk about marrying him off to some pureblood he knew nothing of. 

At least now, he’d actually get to have a child without the weight of his parent’s eyes on him. 

“I’m going to name her….Y/n.” He looked down at you with a grin, “How about it little one? Is Y/n a good pick?”

It was if you knew what he was talking about since you replied with a bright chuckle. As if you were agreeing on the name.

“Oh look at that, she likes it!” Sirius laughed.

Remus walked towards the living room and spoke up, “Little wolf, come here for a moment.”

The three adults watched as the 3 year old began to make her way towards them. 

“Time to meet your new cousin.” Sirius grinned as he picked her up and rested her on his hip.

“Say Hello to Y/n.” Regulus leaned forwards so that his niece could see her better.

“She looks so cute! Hello there Y/n.” She grinned as she reached forward for your hand. 

You giggled at the action which caused everyone else to laugh in adoration. 

Regulus had his doubts on how things would go but when he looked around him. He thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so hard with everyone he had by his side.

#Regulus black #father!regulus black x daughter!reader #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #marauders #moony #padfoot #wolfstar daughter #regulus daughter #remus loves sirius #sirius loves remus #remus and sirius love their kids #regulus loves his daughter #Spotify #regulus imagine

[ladystoneboobs]

why is it people are all agreed that luke and leia would* have very different feelings about darth vader as a father but cannot grasp that their experiences with the people who raised them were also very different?

leia was actually adopted by a father who chose her, who gave her his name, and raised her as fully one of them, to think of himself and his wife as her parents. none of that was at all true for luke. he was dropped on owen and beru after they met his parents all of once a few years before. (which does not a brotherly relationship make! stepbrothers or not! padme was the one with an actual surviving family on naboo who actually knew and loved her. even bail knew her better than owen knew anakin.) owen lied about how anakin lived and died but still raised luke with an idea of his real father, using the skywalker name and saying aunt and uncle instead of mom and dad. 

do y’all not realize that an intra-family adoption doesn’t mean surnames can’t be changed or kids can’t say mom/dad instead of grandma/grandpa or aunt/uncle or whatever? why wouldn’t a kid instinctively call the people raising them from infancy mama and dada? this was all a choice, that’s why. (and considering the danger of the skywalker name, that part was a meaningful and deliberate choice.) and i’m not even blaming owen for it. adoptions cannot be forced on people who did not choose them. not everyone is capable of loving someone else’s child exactly the same as if they were related by blood and that’s not some irredeemable flaw. not everyone even wants to be parents, naturally or not! we don’t know if owen and beru ever wanted to be parents before obi-wan showed up on their doorstep. and even with the lying everyone did about anakin, it speaks well that luke was still raised with some knowledge of his birth parents and grew up loving and respecting the (false) idea of anakin. 

i’m sure owen and beru cared for luke as he did for them but they did not think of each other as simply father/mother and son, nuclear family-style. and to assert otherwise is to deliberately ignore the writing in the movies with every line of “uncle owen” “aunt beru” “his father/your father/my father” and “i have no memory of my mother. i never knew her.” it’s not an insult to owen/beru not to equate them with bail/breha who chose adoption and whom we know had always talked of adopting a baby girl. if anything, i’d say it’s an insult to ignore the complexity and true context there to simplify everyone into the same categories. and maybe, just maybe, we should consider that luke’s connection to anakin/vader and longing for knowledge of his “real” mother has to do with how he was raised differently than leia, and not because the twins are instrincially so different with luke just being a bigger softie.

*i say would because it’s not like rotj gives any time for leia’s reaction to learing she was fathered by anakin/vader (and no, eu matierials which can be de-canonized at any time do not make up any lack in the script). but it’s not as if leia expresses any disapproval toward luke’s feelings or hopes either, even as she worries about his plan. maybe bc she understands how and why she and luke are coming from different places better than most in the fandom do.

#luke skywalker #leia organa #owen lars #beru lars #srsly yoda and obi-wan decided luke's home with no consultation #and then years later ben claims luke is his responsibility after #putting the day-to-day responsibility of care on owen and beru #no wonder he's seen a nosy meddlesome hermit #*seen as #STAR WARS NOTHING BUT STAR WARS #gffa meta #(c)lsb

[lex-munro]

[Princess-verse Scrap] .disappointment.

Flag is literally the only person who likes Joker and also has a successful relationship.  direct all variations of ‘wtf’ to Silvarbelle.

following up on Bruce finding a ten-year-old on his doorstep…  The birds have enlisted outside help.

.disappointment.

The sound of the lift drew his attention to the clock.

Ten thirty.  He’d been in the cave for almost five hours.

“A little bird told me the great Bruce Wayne was moping about his princess,” Rick Flag called out.

“Dammit, Tim,” Bruce muttered.

“I happened to be in town, so I thought I’d drop by.  Being as I’m pretty sure I’m the only person who knows him so well but doesn’t wanna knock your teeth out.  ‘Cept maybe Harley, but that’s its own barrel of monkeys.”

Bruce absolutely, categorically did not want to talk about it.

“I can wait,” Flag said cheerfully.  “Food for thought:  out of all Jay’s friends, I’m the only one in a stable long-term relationship.”

Bruce considered the issue.  “There’s a special kind of disappointment to finding out you love someone more than they love you,” he began.  “Yes, there’s the surprise that you love them more than you thought you did, but they also don’t love you as much as you thought they did, and maybe that means they don’t accept you as completely as you’d thought.  Maybe it means you’re defective in a way that makes it impossible to truly love you, and you’d always hoped you weren’t, but the evidence is…laughing in your face.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Flag told him.

Bruce grunted.

“Every thought he has that isn’t about how to keep himself amused is about you.  How to be pretty for you, how to make shit exciting for you, how to keep you on your toes.  Jay eats, sleeps, and breathes you.”

“But he doesn’t want to marry me.”

“I know I’m speaking as a married man, but being married isn’t the only way to be in love.  What the fuck does he need with a ceremony or old-fashioned vows or a piece of paper?  To his mind, you were meant to be the second you missed that catch at Ace Chemical.  Married from the get-go.  He’s just been waiting for you to catch up.  You want rings?  Tell him you want rings.  Tell him why.  Tell him the word ‘dating’ is impermanent and scary.”

“I’m not scared of the word ‘dating,’” Bruce scoffed.

“Aren’t you?  You don’t see it in all the articles about you and think what the headlines would be if he got bored with you?  You don’t look at domestic life and think that without the mystery, without his little guessing game, you’re no fun anymore?  You sure you don’t wanna marry him just so he’ll think twice before he walks away?”

“He wouldn’t,” Bruce dismissed.  “He’s basically adopted my son.  They’re thick as thieves.”

“Which is also terrifying—because what if losing him means you lose your boy, too?”  Flag clicked his tongue.  “I’m no shrink, Wayne, but I know a thing or two about your princess, and about the way his mind works.  Harley wanted a sitcom family, and that absolutely infuriated him:  the idea she wanted some stranger with his face instead of the real deal.  You want a real family:  a psychotic husband to go with your savior complex, plus a bloodthirsty baby assassin for a kid.  He’s probably over the moon at the very thought.”

Bruce shrugged.

“Tell him he hurt your feelings, at least.  Otherwise he’ll be all antsy and confused, and that’ll piss him off.”

“So what if he hurt my damn feelings?  What am I, a toddler?  The world doesn’t revolve around my hurt goddamn feelings, so there’s no point in mentioning it.”

“That’s a deeply unhealthy way to run a relationship.  You don’t trust him enough to tell him when he hurts you?  You worried he’ll start doing it on purpose?”

Bruce clenched his jaw and stared up at the computer’s main screen.  “Wouldn’t he?” he said at length.

“He loves you.”

“I know he does.”

“Do you, though?”

“He says it constantly,” Bruce muttered.  “And he doesn’t lie.”

“Cats understand human speech as well as dogs do.  Verified fact.  I could tell you that every five minutes for a year, but if you didn’t start out ready to believe it, you probably wouldn’t believe it a year later, either.  Maybe you secretly think you really are unlovable, or something.”

It was like a drain had been unclogged.  All the frustration and uncertainty steadily went away.

Bruce wiped a hand down his face and laughed.  “Thank you, Dr. Flag,” he teased.  “Now get the hell out of my cave.”

.End.

#fanfic #scraps #CANON DIVERGENCE #universe alteration #set after Princess but technically sort of part of it? #fic series: princess

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || He Walks Out In A Fight [Request]

A/N: I tried to give them all different tropes/AU’s so that it could be different from my other works! I have a mixture of angsty endings and fluffy endings! Sorry guys no part 2 💞💕

SEOKJIN: (Non Idol Au)

Jin stared at you as you accused him of once again cheating on you, his phone was in your hand unlocked but he just stared at you. He knew for a fact that he had nothing to hide from you, that he would never cheat on you since you were the love of his life but no matter what you found a way to say he was cheating. Finding girls names in his contacts and not believing that they were people from work, messages from girls you'd never heard of before all messaging him and asking him questions about his day with flirty suggestive comments attached to them. 

"You have guys in your messages, do you see me kicking off like this?" He asked calmly as he stared at you, you shook your head at him. 

"I tell them I've got a boyfriend unlike you. You just thank them and then give them a compliment!" You yelled out, throwing his phone in his direction as he caught it, looking at the messages to a girl he was supposedly cheating on you with. "Ashley" a guy friend from work who he was going out for a drink with that weekend, 

"You're going out for a drink with her, so tell me. What's she like? Is she pretty?" Jin groaned as you continued to yell out questions about someone called Ashley who you were convinced was a girl when in actual reality he was the newest member of Jin's work. 

"She's a he and we're going to get drinks with work buddies. You're reading too much into this," He was starting to feel defeated as he stared at you but you shook your head. Adamant that he was cheating on you so you just stared at him. 

"It's fine if you want to sleep with other people Jin, I already slept with your best friend." Jin's mouth fell open as he stared at you dumbfounded that you would just openly admit to cheating on him when you had just been ranting and raving about him messaging someone else. 

"Un-fucking-believable," He grumbled as he began walking out of the house but you followed him over to his car, 

"Not nice when it's the other way around is it?!" You snapped as he got into the car and started up his engine, 

"The difference is Y/n, I never cheated." He drove out of the drive way and off into the night, going to stay at a friends place while he cleared his head from you.

YOONGI: (Reader is a Rich CEO)

There was no secret that your relationship with Yoongi wasn't always perfect, every small fight and debate between the two of you were splashed around the headlines since you were a famous CEO which meant cameras followed you everywhere you went. Including secret spending sprees when you told Yoongi that you had an important business meeting instead of a shopping spree. 

"I don't see the big deal with going shopping, it's my money." It was true that you could do whatever you wanted with your money but that wasn't what Yoongi was mad about. He was angry at the fact that you had once again lied to him about where you had been and it was starting to get on his nerves. 

"I've been at home waiting for you, the least you could have done was called." He snapped at you, making you roll your eyes as you shook your head at him.

"I'm too tired for this fight, can we just drop it?" You moaned as you sat down on the sofa waiting for this all to be over but Yoongi wasn't going to drop it this easily. 

"All you do is spend, spend, spend your money! Do you know the only thing you don't do? You never want to spend time with me. We could have had a nice day out but you never bother to!" You rolled your eyes standing up suddenly, 

"Do you have any idea how much of a bitch you sound right now?" The words flew out before you even had time to process what you were saying and Yoongi stared at you a little shocked, 

"You're just jealous because I earn more money than you'll ever make in four years. So yes! I went out and I spent money on myself because I fucking earned it! What's wrong? I didn't spend my money on you?" Yoongi grabbed his coat from the coat rack and you stormed after him, telling him not to walk out of the door or things would be over for good. 

"Great! Then I won't have to deal with you anymore," He yelled at you as you stared back at him just as shocked as he had been when you bought up the fact that you earned more money than him.  You knew it was his biggest insecurity while he was with you, all of the media portrayed him as a money-grabbing man and he was now sure that you felt the same way. 

"You're unbelievable," He told you before walking out of the door, shutting it behind him as he began his walk into the town not wanting to take the car that you'd bought for him.

The media was all over the breakup within days of it happening, everyone taking his side instead of yours as news broke out about what you had said to him in the midst of your fight. It was made clear that Yoongi wasn't going to go back to you even if you begged him to.

HOSEOK: (Non idol AU)

"We have to talk about this," Hoseok said as he stared at you, you were sitting across from him in your kitchen, a positive pregnancy test laid out in front of him as he glanced to and from it. 

"Talk about what?" You whispered as you looked back at Hoseok, you'd hoped when you told him you were pregnant you would be overcome with a wave of relief but you weren't, it only made you worry more and more about it. You'd gone through everything in your head, neither of you was ready to bring a child into the world. Neither of you earned enough to support three people and there was no way the tiny apartment you were living in would be big enough for you two and a growing child. 

"We're too young for this," You shook your head, sliding the test into the bin as you pulled out some papers on adoption, it was the one thing you'd had on your mind since finding out you were pregnant. 

"You want to give our baby away?" His question was laced with venom and you shook your head, 

"We could give a family a new start, someone that's been wanting kids for a while could finally have one." You tried to explain it but Hoseok wasn't listening to reason he began shaking his head, telling you that he wanted to keep the child with you and him. 

"We can be a family-"

"We aren't ready Hoseok! You still act like an immature child! We don't even own a place or car big enough to grow a family. Can't you see this is for the better," You had tears running down your cheeks but Hoseok was shaking his head, all he could hear was how you'd called him an immature child.

"I can provide for us all, I'll give us a good life-"

"I would love to keep them with you but With what? We don't earn enough, we're still too young for this Hobi." But he shook his head at you again, getting up and heading to the door. Further proving your point that he acted like a child whenever he could get his own way. 

"Just walk away like you always do," You mumbled as he slammed the door behind himself. 

A month later Hoseok showed up at your doorstep, flowers in hand with a box. 

"Is this your way of proposing?" You asked unimpressed as you stared at him, the two of you had only been in contact over text messages and neglected to bring up the pregnancy conversation with one another. This was the first time you'd seen him face to face since the fight. 

"Open the box." He sighed putting the flowers down on your counter and watching as you opened the box, frowning when you saw two sets of keys inside. 

"What's this?" You pulled them out and Hoseok smiled, 

"The first is the key to our new minivan and the second is the key to our new place...A house...Somewhere we can raise our little one together...If you want to." Your eyes lit up as you stared at Hoseok wondering how he'd gotten all of this in such a short amount of time.

"I've had the house for a while...I-I'd been doing it up and so I took some paid holidays and finished it. The car is on finance but with my promotion, we can do this." All you did was lean forward and kiss him deeply.

NAMJOON: (Mafia AU)

"Where have you been? I've been calling you all night long!" Namjoon called out as you walked through the door, all night? It wasn't even 5 pm yet. You dropped the bag you'd carried home from work and sighed as he rushed to your sighed, watching you closely. 

"I had a meeting, it ran late. I text you." You whined, hanging up your shoes and coat, not ready for the same long and boring speech that he always gave to you whenever you were late or not somewhere he could see you. 

"You could have gotten hurt, someone could have hurt you." He panicked, taking your face in his hands and turning it in different directions so he could see if you had been hurt or if you were even really you. Lately, he'd been more paranoid than usual and it was starting to bug you with the constant questioning about where you were every minute of every day. 

"I'm fine. I got a ride home with Jimin, Joonie I'm fine." You got out of his grasp and headed towards the kitchen, wanting to get a strong drink if you were going to have to go through the speech about you needing a guard around you. Namjoon was in business with the Mafia and he was dating you which meant you were a walking target, anybody could decide to grab you at any point in time but you didn't want a guard, you didn't want to be protected all of the time. 

"I don't need someone telling me when and where I can't do or go somewhere Namjoon!" You finally snapped as he brought up the idea of a guard once again. The glass was smashed onto the table as you slammed it down too hard and you let out a hiss as you saw some blood coming from a small cut. Namjoon instantly went into panic mode, grabbing onto you and trying to force you to go to the hospital but you backed away from him wanting to scream out. 

"You're so fucking overprotective! Leave me alone! I am fine!" You screamed as you finally reached your breaking point, Namjoon stared at you in silence as he waited to see if you were serious.

"I'm overprotective?"

"Yes! You never let me do anything, do you know how pathetic it is?!" That was all it took, he walked out of the house leaving you in complete silence and on your own as he went to clear his head. 

Namjoon came back to the house the next day to find you curled up in his bed wearing one of his shirts, tear stains down your face. 

"Babe?" He frowned as he walked over to you, dropping his keys onto the counter thinking something was wrong but as soon as you heard him you jumped up. Running over as you wrapped your arms around his neck, begging him not to leave you like that again.

"What happened?" He asked as he pulled away, holding your face as he looked into your eyes ready to kill whoever had hurt you but you shook your head. 

"I-I just realised why you're so protective...I-I should have been more considerate...Last night I couldn't eat or sleep because you weren't here," You began crying again but all he did was wrap his arms around you, kissing the top of your head whispering that he was never going to leave you again while you told him over and over again how sorry you were for what you had said to him.

JIMIN: (Vampire AU)

"I don't want you to spend time with him, why is that a problem?" Jimin questioned as he stared at you, you were staring back at him while shaking your head. 

"Because you're acting like a jealous teenager," You mumbled, folding your arms over your chest as you raised your eyebrows at your boyfriend who was being a jealous, overprotective and possessive boyfriend. 

"I am a teenager," You sprinted over to him with your vampiric speed and tilted your head to the side, 

"We're both 248 years old...How do you work that out," The two of you had been together for almost 222 years, both of you had changed into vampires when you were 26-years old after almost dying in a terrible accident. A doctor decided to change you both at the same time and took you in as his own, now you were acting as young as you could get away with. Ageing in different towns. Currently, you were portraying 18-years-old in a college together as a couple. 

"It's just a study session with Justin, he needs my help in biology," You reassured Jimin that there was nothing going on between you and Justin but Jimin didn't see it the way you did. He saw Justin as a threat, he was younger than both of you and human...What if you decided you wanted to be with Justin instead and changed him into one of you or worse. What if Justin found out what you were and threatened to expose you to everyone? Jimin's grip tightened on you and you stared at him, 

"I'll be fine," A car honked from outside the library and you looked out of the window, Justin was there waiting for you. 

"Don't go. You don't know him! He could hurt you," You rolled your eyes at Jimin before shaking your head, 

"You're so possessive and jealous, it's boring Jimin!" In all your years of being together, you'd never once called him boring or possessive or jealous and it hurt to know that's how you felt about him. As if you could see the dials turning in his head you tried to tell him you didn't mean it but he'd already run out of the building in the blink of an eye leaving you alone there.

Jimin could sense there was something wrong the second you walked through the door and it wasn't because you had blood on your shirt which he knew for a fact wasn't yours since you didn't bleed. 

"What happened?" He rushed to your side holding your face as you stared at him, 

"He knew. He knew about what we were...I-I had to take care of it," You mumbled as you dropped a bag down onto the floor, Jimin already knew what was inside from the smell of blood coming to his nose as he looked at it before looking back at you.

"I should have listened to you...You're always right," You mumbled as you told Jimin you both needed to get out of the city and fast since you didn't know if Justin had already told people what he knew or not. Luckily for you and Jimin it was just the two of you on the run, if you were with the rest of your family it would have been a lot harder.

TAEHYUNG: ( Friends with benefits trope)

It hadn't meant to come out this way, you and Taehyung were just supposed to be sex buddies but on what planet did that ever actually work out? None was the answer. It was a dumb idea to have if you thought it was ever going to work, 

"I told you I didn't want a relationship when we started this, what's the big deal?" You questioned as Taehyung began rushing around to find his clothes you'd torn off him earlier that night. He let out a tut as he shook his head disapprovingly at you, 

"I thought maybe you'd changed your mind, maybe you'd grown a heart and decided to let someone love you!" You rolled your eyes at him as if this was some sort of romantic movie or novel that would result in you loving one another. 

"We're friends! Nothing will change that," You tried to tell him but he just scoffed at you not wanting to listen to it all over again, 

"Last time I checked, friends don't fuck each other the way we do," You shook your head at him, 

"You're unbelievable! How could you think I would ever love you like that?!" The world seemed to stop moving and you were left staring at one another from across your bedroom floor. Taehyung's eyes were red as he started to cry but you didn't feel guilt. You told him from the start that you didn't want to deal with the emotions of being in a relationship, that what was going on between you was just sex. 

"Did you really just say that?" Tears rolled down his cheeks as he waited for you to answer him, 

"It's just sex. I don't like you like that," He nodded his head as he dressed himself, walking out of the apartment and slamming the door so hard your picture frame fell off the wall and smashed onto the floor leaving you to stare at it as he stormed off. 

Four months later you were walking around the mall with some friends when you bumped into Taehyung with a group of his friends, you locked eyes with one another and you didn't know if you should have waved or kept your head down but Taehyung answered it for you. Turning his face away from you and talking with the guys as though he hadn't even seen you standing there in front of him, you couldn't blame him after what you'd said to him though so you just kept walking, not looking over your shoulder.

JUNGKOOK: ( Idol x Reader)

You sighed as Jungkook continued to yell at you for going out when he specifically told you not to, it wasn't as though he was keeping you in the house all of the time or being overly protective of you. That weekend he had plans to spend the entire time with you, wanting to be alone for a while instead of with the boys or your friends but you'd snuck out the night before and didn't come back until the early hours. Still drunk as you stood across from Jungkook in the living room, 

"Can you stop yelling? I have a headache," You mumbled to him wanting nothing more than to head up to your bed and forget the night before even happened. 

"This was the first time we would have been alone together in a while, can you blame me for missing you?" Your back was turned to him so he didn't see you roll your eyes at the statement so you just walked up the stairs to the bedroom, falling down onto the mattress as you let out a huge sigh. 

"I just want to sleep," You moaned at him, rolling over so your head was buried between the pillows and the sunlight wasn't hurting your eyes anymore, 

"Didn't you miss me?" You stayed silent as Jungkook questioned you, walking back into the room with a sad expression written across his face. He figured you must have missed him as much as he missed you during the week, you hardly got to see one another thanks to his busy schedule at the studios. 

"It's just like when you go on tour. It's no big deal. I'm used to it," You drunkenly mumbled into the pillow, closing your eyes as you saw no problem with what you had said but to Jungkook it felt as though you'd taken his heart from his chest and stomped it into the ground. 

"You don't miss me? Do you even love me?" You let out a groan at his question, rolling over to face him. He had tears running down his cheeks as he stared at you, waiting for you to answer him he had fears running around his head at what you might say but nothing could have prepared him for it.

"Do you have any idea how fucking clingy you sound right now?" You grumbled before laying back down, staring at the ceiling while Jungkook stormed out of the room. Slamming the door behind him as he headed into the spare bedroom for the night, he'd heard enough from you. 

The next morning when you finally emerged from the bedroom you found Jungkook sitting in the living room eating lunch on his own, 

"Morning baby, what time did I come in?" You questioned tiredly as you sat down beside him, attempting to cuddle up beside him but he shifted away from your touch. 

"Babe?" You frowned looking at him as he continued to stare at the screen that had some old sit-com running instead of at you. You went to touch his arm but he got up, 

"I don't want to be too clingy for you." He snapped and that was when it hit you. Memories of the night before came flooding back to you as you groaned at him. 

"J-Jungkook, I didn't mean it, I was drunk-"

"Drunk words are sober thoughts," He snapped before heading into the kitchen to clean up but you weren't going to let him get away with that, you just rushed over to him. Wrapping your arms around him from behind and burying your face in his back, 

"I know you're going away s-soon...I was pushing you away so I wouldn't feel so hurt when you go on tour," You explained your backwards way of thinking and you felt Jungkook's body physically relax as he realised you weren't serious the night before. 

"It was dumb and I should have said something to you instead of just acting like a bitch," He nodded in agreement, letting you say everything you needed to say before the two of you spent the day with your hangover on the sofa together.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @innersooya @sweeneyblue1​ @sw33tnight​ @agustdjoon​ @jin-from-the-block​ @acciocriativity​ @that-anxious-bisexual​

#bts #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts reaction #bts reactions #seokjin #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook #kim taehyung #taehyung #park jimin #jimin #kim namjoon #namjoon #jhope #jung hoseok #hoseok #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #jin #kim seokjin

[slasher-sweetie]

Happy Accidents: Michael Myers(RZ)x Reader ◇Part One◇

You couldn't believe it. After how careful you had always been to make sure that you took your birth control pills, because you knew that you were sleeping with a murderer, because you knew that you were putting your life at risk every time he wound his hands around your throat, because you knew Michael Myers would not be a good father, you had somehow still gotten pregnant.

You loved Michael, you really did. You were probably missing some very important parts of your brain that dealt with self-preservation, but you loved him with your whole heart. Which is why you had accepted the fact that you would never be a mother, that you would never experience the sound of tiny feet pattering across the floor, or witness a first word, or feel the joy of raising a child.

The moment you realized you were in love with Michael, you knew that you would have to put those things in a box, and bury that box deep inside your heart, because this life was no life for a child to live. Michael probably didn't even like children, if he did, he certainly never let on about it to you.

Did you think Michael was capable of love? Maybe. At times he would come to you and show you the affection you often craved. You had learned very early on that Michael only allowed affection when he permitted it. The various bruises you sustained from being pushed to the ground taught you that fairly quickly.

You had respected his boundaries, knowing that he had been through so much. He deserved to have some control over his life, even if it meant that you didn't always get the physical affection that you needed. Michael had been stripped of his ability to choose for himself when he was thrown into Smith's Grove. You understood that, and would never take away his choice.

Your eyes glanced back down at the test. A child wouldn't understand why their father rejected every form of affection from them. A child wouldn't be able to understand why it seemed as if they're father hated them half the time. A child wouldn't be able to cope with having their father three feet away from them and rarely ever receiving love or affection from him.

What had you done? You'd brought an innocent life into this situation, into a situation where they would feel rejected by their father for their entire life. How could you have been so careless?

You could get an abortion, but could you really end the life of a child that was half Michael? Could you really bring yourself to kill a part of Michael? No. Not even if it meant his happiness.

Your mind wandered to thoughts from long ago, when you were a child. You had always pictured yourself with children. Even from such a young age, you knew that you were meant to be a mother. The moment you met Michael, those dreams receded to the back of your mind.

Now they were a reality. You were a mother, even if your baby was currently the size of a pea. Or a seed. Come to think of it, you had no idea how far along you were. Maybe you were worrying for nothing and you had bought a faulty pregnancy test. Maybe you were even dreaming. You pinched yourself to try and snap out of it, only to wince in response to the sharp pain. Okay, not dreaming.

How were you going to tell Michael?

Where you even going to tell Michael?

Jesus fucking Christ, what were you going to do?

You took a deep breath, trying to clear your mind and not stress out about the situation. Stress is bad for the baby.

You sat there and decided that one thing was for sure, you were keeping Michael's baby. There would be no thoughts of abortion or adoption. What if you gave them up for adoption and the baby was born with Michael's mindset? What if their new family didn't know how to handle them? What if they wound up in some crazy house with no one to love them? You shuddered at that last thought. No. No abortion, no adoption, you were keeping your baby.

Now that THAT was decided, onto the other decisions at hand.

Were you going to tell Michael? I mean, sooner or later, you would start showing. Michael was observant, he would definitely notice something was amiss. So, you'd hint at it. You'd ask him how he felt about children. A simple question, and you would use his answer as the basis to plot your next move.

So you waited, and in the process of waiting you baked some caramel brownies, Michael's favorite. Maybe if you plied him with sweets he'd be in a much better mood.

***

Michael could smell them from a block away. The reason he had shown up to your doorstep in the first place, the reason your relationship hadn't ended with you dead on the floor. Your special brownies, with bits of fudge, and ooey caramel.  They were the single best thing he had ever eaten in his life. You knew they were his favorite.

What you didn't know was that the brownies were second only to one other thing he had ever tasted, your lips. Your sweetness was greater than any other flavor he had ever known. It was why he kept coming back, it was why he referred to you as Brownies in his mind. He knew your name, but didn't people come up with silly names for their significant others? He had seen it several times on the TV, darling, sweetheart, honey, baby, sugar. All names that he had heard couples call eachother. And weren't the two of you a couple? You ate together, slept together, lived together. That was definitely a couple in Michael's book. So, he decided to name you after one of his favorite things, Brownies. You certainly didn't know that, but Michael did and that's all that really mattered.

At the pace that he walked, he arrived at your house in no time. His breathing was even as he let himself inside, the smell of his awaiting treats permeated the air, mixing with a lingering scent that Michael could only describe as you. He made his way to the kitchen, something inside him told him that's where he'd find you.

Your back was turned to him when he entered the kitchen, so in an attempt to not startle you, Michael purposefully stepped on one of the many creaky boards that could be found around your house. At the sound you turned quickly, sighing once you saw it was only him.

"Welcome home, Michael," you greeted with a smile. Your red-rimmed eyes gave you away immediately. You had been crying, and Michael wanted to know why. With his long stride he was in front of you in an instant, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek, he used his thumb to push just under your jawline in order to angle your face up. He needed to study you, needed to know that you were okay. He could feel the voices in his head going wild, screaming for blood. Who had hurt his Brownies?

You placed you hand over his, giving it a comforting squeeze, "I'm alright, Michael. I've just been thinking."

You tried to pull away but the low growl in Michael's chest stopped you. His meaning was clear. He wanted to know what had upset you.

Well, now was as good a time as any to bring up the subject of children with your homicidal housemate.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever might happen, " How do you feel about children, Michael?"

His hand dropped from your face and he stepped back as if you had slapped him. Children? What did he think about children? He didn't think about children.  Did you want children with him? He was a murderer. He had a head filled with voices that demanded frequent bloody sacrifices. Yet, here you were, asking him what he thought of children.

Without any other reaction, he turned and walked out of the room, a few seconds later you heard the slamming of the front door.

Your hands went down to cup your stomach to reassure the tiny life growing inside. That could've gone worse.

***

It had been a week since Michael had exited your house, and you hadn't seen hide nor hair of him since then. Your decision was made. You'd leave Haddonfield. You definitely couldn't stay to raise your child in the same town as the father who had all but rejected them.

Your hormones had been insane the past week, and a part of you wondered if it was the small amount of Michael's DNA that was living inside you.

You watched as your neighbor loaded the last box of clothes into the moving van you had ordered. In your condition you couldn't lift heavy items, and your neighbor had volunteered to help you load the van.

You were leaving today, and all you wanted was to see Michael one last time before you left. This move had been rushed, you knew that. You had worked so hard to secure a house in your home town, and thankfully you found a sweet old couple that were moving, and would pay for all the expenses of having the deed put into your name. They were leery of you at first, but after they had found out you were pregnant, the wife had only charged you $300 to buy their two bedroom cottage that was conveniently located in your hometown.

You knew that it was a complete steal, and jumped on the opportunity. You had sold your car for $12,000 and used some of the money to rent the moving van. You left the rest in a little envelope with Michael's name on it. In the event that he came back and found it before someone else did, Michael would at least have a little money to get him by.

You surveyed the house one last time, said goodbye to your neighbor, and then climbed up into the van.

You were leaving a piece of yourself in Haddonfield with Michael, and you were taking a piece of Michael with you. You blinked back the tears as you began your drive to your new home.

Michael would be better off without you.

#slashers #slasher x you #slasher x reader #michael myers #michael myers x you #michael myers x reader #pregnancy #pregnant #childbirth

[jaskierswolf]

The Grass is Greener Pt.1/3

Summary: Jaskier's mother is coming to stay and his garden is an absolute mess and his lawn mower has seen better days... luckily for him his ridiculously hot neighbour is there to lend a hand. 

Geraskier

CW: Shitty parents being shitty.

(Prompted by @alwenarin and based on this post by @infinite-mirrors)

________

Jaskier stared forlornly out at his garden. His mother was due to come over on her yearly visit and the next few days of his life were going to be hell. His mother was the sort to blast into his life like a fucking tornado, pull apart everything that he had built for himself and leave him broken, shattered into a thousand shards of glass. He wasn’t even sure why he still let her in, probably some childhood trauma that meant he was desperate to please her, to make her proud, but what did he know? He wasn’t a therapist, much to her displeasure. Anything would have been better in her eyes than a musician and occasional bartender.

He didn’t make much money. His band hadn’t taken off yet and only really had a small but dedicated following online that donated pocket money in exchange for small previews of new tracks or little poems that could be given to lovers or in greetings cards. Most of his rent was paid for in the tips he made at the bar. He was lucky to have the house at all really. He shared it with his housemates: Priscilla, his bandmate and ex, Essi, her younger sister, Valdo Marx, his former schoolmate, professional rival and absolutely twat face who lurked in his attic room and never really came out to talk to them, and last but not least, Regis, a kind scholarly type who had been living in the house before the other rooms had become available and most importantly made excellent homemade gin.

Said housemates had agreed to fuck off for the weekend so he could pretend that the house was his in a last ditched attempt win over his mother.

Of course, none of them had helped to tidy up before leaving and he’d spent the last twenty-four hours deep cleaning the house, and bolting the door to Regis’s bathroom shut. The gin in the bathtub wasn’t ready to bottle yet and he wasn’t exactly going to drain the tub of his elixir. He’d moved the furniture in his friend’s rooms around enough to make it look like they weren’t extra bedrooms, more… rooms that just happened to have beds in case he had company. Priscilla’s room now resembled a music room, Essi’s room had been turned into a makeshift study, Valdo’s he’d left a mess and claimed it was just an attic, and Regis’s room was sort of a library if you squinted hard enough.

That just left the garden.

“Bollocks!” He moaned.

None of them really cared much about the garden, apart from the box down the end which housed Regis’s herb garden for cooking. The rest of the garden a mess. The grass was practically a wild meadow filled with weeds. He quite liked it. He enjoyed looking at the dandelions, daisies and buttercups but his mother would have a fit.

Where was he even going to start?

Lawnmower. They must have one. He stumbled through his back door onto the patio and made his way to the shed that honestly barely lived up to its name. It was falling apart and leaked horrendously, but luckily inside was one rusty looking lawnmower.

“Bingo!” He grinned and pulled the mower out of the shed. It was heavier than it looked but luckily Jaskier was also stronger than he looked. Even so he wasn’t entirely how he was going to start the damn thing.

Perhaps Geralt would know…

Fuck.

Geralt.

Geralt had just adopted a newborn baby. Her name was Ciri. Most of the time Geralt just called her ‘Cub’ which Jaskier found to be incredibly endearing, a fact that had nothing to do with his teensy little crush on the mechanic.

He pulled up Geralt’s number in his phone. He’d been delighted when Geralt had given him his number, yes maybe it was because Jaskier kept turning up at Geralt’s doorstep after shifts at work because he’d forgotten his keys and none of his bastard housemates were answering the door and Geralt just happened to have a spare key, but the main thing is he had Geralt’s number.

After that they’d conversed a few times over text. Mostly if one of them was running to the shops and wanted to know if the other needed anything. Occasionally Geralt would text to ask Jaskier if he could watch Ciri for a short while if Geralt needed to leave the house. Once Geralt had even given him a lift to work because Jaskier’s bike had gotten a flat tire and he didn’t have enough time to walk all the way to the bar. So they weren’t exactly strangers but he wouldn’t really call them friends.

In fact Geralt was still listed as Hot Neighbour in his phone. He meant to change it, it was just that you couldn’t argue with the truth. Geralt was his hot neighbour.

 J —Hey Geralt! Is it ok if I mow my lawn? I don’t want to wake Ciri if she’s asleep. :)

He stared at his phone intently until about an eternity later, Geralt replied.

 G — The child must not be an obstacle.

Jaskier snorted as he read the response. He read it aloud a couple of times trying to mimic Geralt’s rough husky voice and managed to give himself the giggles.

His phone buzzed again.

 G — I can hear you laughing at me.

“Oh shit!” He almost dropped his phone and his cheeks felt like they were on fire. “Sorry Geralt!” He called into the air.

 G— Hmm.

Jaskier scoffed. Who text back “Hmm”? And why did Jaskier still find that so attractive?

But never mind that! He had the green light. Operation Finally Make His Mother Proud, or FMHMP for short, and yes you could absolutely say that if you tried hard enough, was go! He was going to mow the lawn like a proper adult!

He tried for about six years to turn the mower on but without any success. He kicked the lawnmower in frustration and the whole damned thing fell apart.

“Fuck it!” He yelled as he hopped about on his good foot that hadn’t been battered by lawnmower.

He sulked back into the house and flopped down dramatically on the sofa. It was over. His mother was going to hate him and he would die as a disgrace to the Pankratz name and the Lettenhove estate.

He was half way through his pity party when the doorbell rang. He grabbed his phone to check the time. Strange, his mother wasn’t due for another three hours.

“What the fuck?” He mused and padded over to the door. To his surprise Geralt was standing on his doorstep with Ciri tucked safely into a baby sling on his chest and behind him was a shiny lawnmower. “Ah. Geralt!” He grinned.

Geralt turned to the lawnmower and back to him. “Thought you might need some help.”

Jaskier blushed. “Right. Yes. Of course. Come on in!” He stood back to let Geralt through. “Oh, actually do you want to come round the side gate? The lawnmower probably shouldn’t come through the house. I’ve just cleaned up.”

Geralt grunted but followed Jaskier around the side of the house and into the back garden.

“What the fuck, Jaskier?” He grumbled when he saw the state of the lawn. “I thought you said you were mowing the lawn, not trying to find it!”

“Ah, yes, well. That is an excellent point.” Jaskier stammered, pulling at the hem of his shirt nervously. “You see my mother is visiting.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “Your mother, how old are you? Twelve?”

Jaskier gaped at his neighbour. “Geralt!” He whined. “I’m twenty-nine! Mother is just a cow.”

“Hmm. Fine. Let’s do this.” Geralt pulled Ciri gently out of her sling and passed her to Jaskier. “Hold her. I need to grab her stuff. This will take longer than I thought.”

“Oh hang on!” Jaskier called after Geralt but it was too late and Ciri began to cry. “Umm. There there.” He cooed and rocked her gently. “Shall I sing you a lullaby, cub?”

She didn’t answer, babies rarely did, so he decided a lullaby would be fine and began to sing in hushed tones as he rocked her in his arms. Geralt wasn’t long but he seemed surprise to come back to Jaskier rocking his daughter to sleep in his arms.

“Hmm. She likes you.” Geralt noted.

He was carrying Ciri’s car seat and a bag was slung over his shoulder. In his other hand was a large electric contraption with some nasty blades at the end. He dumped the scary looking monster and placed the travel cot on the patio table. Once Ciri was safely asleep they got to work.

Or more accurately, Geralt got to work. Jaskier mostly just watched and made sure Geralt had all the refreshments he needed. He also kept the conversation going by listing all the grievances his mother had with him from her last visit, Geralt hummed and grunted but didn’t offer much in return but it didn’t matter. Jaskier was more than capable of holding an entire conversation by himself.

“And then she starts wittering on about how my sister has a perfect husband and a darling little angel.” Jaskier moaned. “So of course then it’s ‘Julian why don’t you have a wife?’”

“Julian?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier glared at his neighbour. “Don’t ever call me that, I beg of you.”

Geralt shrugged. “I won’t. Just asking.”

“And I tell her, for the hundredth time, to say partner or spouse or lover or you know… not gender specific because she knows! Geralt! She knows. I don’t know how many times I have to tell her.” Jaskier sighed. “Oh, umm I’m bisexual just to give you some context there.”

Geralt nodded. “Right.”

“So of course she starts complaining that I always have to make everything gay, and I’m like… ‘Mother, I am gay!’” Jaskier announced with wide arms.

Geralt looked up at him, pausing halfway down the lawn that was now starting to resemble a lawn. “So why not tell her you’re seeing someone?” He asked. “Solve both problems if you say it’s a guy.”

Jaskier put his hands on his hips and tilted his head. “Yeah.” He scoffed. “Until she asks to meet him.”

Geralt shrugged. “I could do it.”

Jaskier’s heart jumped in his chest. “You what? Geralt!”

“My ex has been bothering me about finding someone.” He grumbled. “Two birds, One stone.”

Jaskier narrowed his eyes at his insanely hot neighbour who was now apparently suggesting they… fake date??

“What exactly are you suggesting here?” Jaskier asked slowly. “You pretend to be my boyfriend for my mother’s visit and we what? Send a few photos to your ex to prove you’re moving on?”

Geralt smirked. “As long as you promise not to fall in love with me.”

Jaskier’s jaw dropped.

Well fuck. _______

Next

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskier fanfiction #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geralt/jaskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #ciri #dad geralt #surprise fake dating #I could be persuaded to write a second part #let me know if you want part 2 #Update there will now be three parts #ask and you shall receive #the grass is greener

[soulmate-game]

It had been a trip to Metropolis. Why would Francois-Dupoint go to Gotham, a crime-ridden city crawling with danger and supervillains, vigilantes that toed the line of being bad influences, and a really high chance of lawsuit, when they could go to the city of Superman himself?

Exactly. No good reason.

At least, that was what they all thought. Marinette’s parents even volunteered to chaperone, deciding that they could survive shutting the bakery down for one week. Marinette had helped raise enough money for the trip that the school could compensate them a bit for their time, and their food, hotel, and plane were all paid for. It was supposed to be a great trip. One to remember. And yeah, Marinette would never forget that vacation.

Because she stood with the rest of her class, watching smoke and dust rise off of the pile of rubble that just dropped on top of her parents. The fight was over. Marinette couldn’t even remember who it was. But even with his son by his side, Superman and Superboy couldn’t save everyone. Nobody could. It was asking too much, to expect any one or two heroes to save everyone when an entire city was being attacked and buildings reduced to rubble.

But that wouldn’t soothe the sight of blood creeping out of the rocks.

That wouldn’t soothe the scrapes on Marinette’s knees when she dropped to the ground.

It wouldn’t smother the sound of her agonized cries.

It wouldn’t heal the burns and scrapes and bruises, the chipped fingernails and bleeding fingertips that Marinette gave herself as she tried desperately, sight blurry through tears, to lift each and every piece of still-hot concrete off, shove it to the side, in an attempt to unearth them. They could still be alive, right? Right?

The fact that she was shoveling what amounted to pebbles off of a hill of rubble argued with her. No. No, they weren’t.

It wasn’t until gentle, but unyieldingly strong hands clasped hers, making them still.

“You’re hurting yourself,” that soft, deep voice came from whoever owned the foreign hands, but she didn’t have the mental strength to look up and identify them. Instead, she resorted to kicking rubble away. The voice sighed. “Back up. I can help. Okay? Will you let me help?”

It had been so long, Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. When was the last time someone had actually asked her that question? When was the last time someone ever offered her help? Legitimate help, not just something superficial.

She couldn’t remember. How should she respond?

Marinette’s tongue darted out, wetting her dusty lips. Her deep breath came in with a disconcerting rattle. Somehow, she managed to nod. The foreign hands loosened slightly.

“Okay. Good—“

“I can’t stop,” Marinette finally managed to choke out. “I can’t— I need to—“

“I know,” the voice said again, endlessly patient. Endlessly understanding. “But you’re hurting yourself, so put these on first. Then you can keep digging.”

With his help—yes, him. She vaguely managed to pin down that the voice was male— she was able to slip on thick gloves. They were several sizes too big, probably belonged to one of the firefighters nearby, her mind numbly supplied. She didn’t care. As soon as they were on, she dropped down and began to dig again. The man who had offered to help did just that, moving just a foot or two away and lifting up impossibly large chunks of concrete before placing them down gently in an open area.

With his help, they were uncovered. They were carried away, under blankets, as best as they could be. Marinette saw none of it. Hands covered her eyes, younger than the voice-man’s hands but almost as strong. The only thing she saw was whatever was left once most of them was taken away. Later, she would thank him. But in the moment she was furious.

“I’m not a baby!” She growled at him, her voice lower and scratchier than usual because of all the smoke and dust clogging her throat. “I need to look at them! I need to remember!”

“Not like this,” the new voice said. When he removed his hands, Marinette saw Superboy. He was probably just about her age, but that offered little comfort for her. At least his eyes were understanding, calm, and empathetic. “You don’t need to see them like this. Remember them like they were, not how they ended,” the young hero advised gently, keeping a respectable distance between them now that he was no longer covering her eyes. He wasn’t even floating, staying on solid ground to stay closer to her eye level. “Today will be hard enough on your mind as it is. You don’t need to make this more painful than it is.”

Marinette could only bite her lip at that, her shoulders trembling. Is this what it took to have someone worry about her? To have people realize that she wasn’t superhuman, that she wasn’t infallible or mentally indestructible? Is this what it took, to finally have people try to help and care for her?

Because if it was, she would gladly deal with Lila Rossi and be held to far too high a standard for the rest of her life. She would rather suffer quietly for decades with that much more gentle pain than deal with this agony right now.

She finally let the tears fall, but they were mostly silent. Only hiccups and gasps for air added sound to her sobs. Superboy gently removed her hands from her arms before she could draw blood on herself, and when she lunged into the touch he drew her into the hug she clearly needed. When she pretty much collapsed into his hold, getting snot and tears over the symbol on his chest, he said nothing. He just held her and shared a glance over her shoulder with his father.

—*—*—*—*—*

Lois Lane was an investigative reporter. And when her husband and son asked her to make sure the girl they had sat with for hours after the latest attack on their city would be taken care of, she did not cut corners in her research. What she came up with was less than reassuring.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. With her parents gone, she didn’t have much in the way of possible guardians. Her paternal grandfather was dead, just a few months earlier of old age. Her paternal grandmother Gina was consumed with wanderlust, not very responsible and not likely to be able to win custody. Even if she did, Lois doubted Marinette would do well in such an unstable, constantly moving lifestyle. Some people would, but Marinette was much like her son from what she gathered from her investigation. She would need stability before anything else. There was her Uncle from her mom’s side of the family, but he only spoke Mandarin so the language barrier was not promising either. The last thing Marinette needed was pressure to learn a new language. If she hyper focused on anything to deal with her grief, it should at least be something she chose on her own. Lastly there was her maternal grandmother, but she had gotten in an accident and passed away almost two years prior.

Luckily, Lois Lane was also a woman of extreme, if mostly secret, political power. She knew several billionaires with political sway, international superheroes, and politicians. Also, not that she would ever tell her husband, but she might have squared away some blackmail and favors that she might cash in with some folks in the legal system if it decided to fight her on her new personal mission.

Nobody got in the way of Lois Lane and lasted long.

But first, she ran her idea past her family. It wouldn’t do any good if they didn’t agree with her, after all. Luckily enough, her offer seemed to be exactly what they had hoped for. Apparently Marinette was the type that was easy to get attached to.

And that was how, after twelve hours of intense phone-call sessions and very, very many in depth discussions, arguments, debates, bargains, and subtle manipulation, Marinette Dupain-Cheng ended up in the temporary custody of the Kent family.

The process itself was extremely complicated and in normal circumstances would have taken anywhere from days to months to complete, but as mentioned before Lois Lane is a secret political superpower in and of herself.

Officially, Marinette’s grandmother Gina assumed custody. Unofficially, her grandmother had plans to enroll her in school abroad in, you guessed it, Metropolis, so that she wouldn’t have to deal with the melancholy memories that Paris would supply her. In doing so, she contacted the Kent’s who were apparently old family friends and asked them to take her granddaughter in for the time being. She was oh so busy traveling the world, after all. And that’s no life for a teenager recovering from grief.

After two weeks to allow Marinette to go back to Paris for the funeral, pack up her things and say goodbye to her friends, she ended up on the Kents’ doorstep with her grandmother by her side. Any attempts to get more information out of the old woman were futile, she refused to say a word on why nobody had mentioned these “family friends” before.

(Lois figured out fairly quickly that Gina Dupain was not somebody to take lightly. The fact that Gina answered the phone thinking that Red Hood was calling was a giant tip off. Lois was pretty sure that Gina knew damn well who her son and husband were, but wasn’t saying anything about it. It really was a shame that she wasn’t exactly prime parenting material at the moment.)

Lois and Clark opened the door together, having been double and triple checking that everything was set up and ready for their new addition. Sure, Marinette wasn’t being adopted or even officially fostered by them, but they would still treat her like a Kent.

“Marinette, hi,” Clark greeted, smiling warmly down at the short girl. “I’m Clark, and this is my wife Lois. If you need absolutely anything, don’t be afraid to ask. Okay?”

The small girl nodded, her hair flopping behind her a bit. Normally she would have it held back in pigtails, but she just didn’t have the energy for that anymore. Maybe she would regain it one day. With that, Gina and Marinette said their goodbyes and she started her life with the Kents.

—*—*—*—*—*

It took a while. Luckily the trip to metropolis had already been in the early summer, so Marinette could be excused for the last few weeks of the school term and relax over summer before being forced back into society. Her grades at Francois-Dupoint were finalized, Marinette doing all the extra work during her two weeks in France for the funeral. She had been told it wasn’t necessary and that she could take her time with it but, as the Kents soon learned, Marinette hated being idle.

But even though Marinette was nowhere near healed, it only took a week for her to warm up to the youngest Kent. Jon was a very much welcome presence in her new life. Just about her age, he was always patient with her and never pried for information or asked about why she occasionally couldn’t bring herself to talk. Words just failed her sometimes, she couldn’t get her throat to work. Something would remind her of her parents, or that day, and she would just feel the dust in her throat again and the blisters on her palms and she just couldn’t say a word.

All three of the Kents helped her through these episodes as best as they could, but Jon always stayed close by so she could tug him into a hug when she was ready. As a very tactile person, she really appreciated that.

And somehow he and Clark, despite being very awkward and physically unsure of themselves on the surface, gave the best hugs.

But, even though Jon and Clark had resigned themselves to being slightly more on-guard about their identities than they usually would be at home, they hadn’t quite anticipated just how hard it would be to keep a secret identity. Not necessarily from Marinette, since the girl spent most of her time out in their backyard or in her room, or occasionally going out for short visits to the city with Jon. No, it was the other way around.

Because of course Marinette couldn’t just give up being Ladybug and the Grand Guardian. Fu wasn’t there to take over for her anymore, so she took it upon herself to watch over Paris twice as vigorously. Mostly through keeping an eye on news channels and texts with her friends, general media stuff. She didn’t want to tire Kaalki out.

And this was how, two months after Marinette started living with the Kents, she walked through a portal into her room and was met with Clark and Jon staring right at her. The elder Kent had his arms crossed, posture oddly confident for the man she had come to know, and one eyebrow raised. Jon looked like his smile was about to rip his face in half, and he was bouncing a bit on his heels. Even then, though, Marinette could pick out the slight worry in his blue eyes. In both of theirs.

She immediately jumped backwards and closed the portal. Trapping herself back in Paris.

And instantly crumpling down to moan in despair on top of a random Parisian rooftop.

She was sitting on the very top of the Eiffel Tower when Superman and Superboy found her, and it didn’t take much for her to guess that they had flown straight over from metropolis. Stupid super-speed flight. She drew her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees as they floated to her side of her patiently. She had long since separated Kaalki, and sat in just her Ladybug costume.

“I knew Lois could contact you guys, but this is a bit too quick even for you don’t you think?” Ladybug drawled monotonously, looking over at both of the heroes dryly. Now that she was mostly of sound mind and not in the middle of a traumatic situation, she was able to make connections she couldn’t before. She was able to actually observe their faces, whereas before she hadn’t really been in the right mind frame to really commit anything about them to memory. But now?

Ohhh, she knew those faces.

Marinette’s eyebrow twitched as she did a double-take, followed closely by a deep breath. Maybe the glasses and, for Jon, baseball cap, would be a good enough disguise for most people. Especially when combined with the frankly impressive body acting they both pulled off on an apparently daily basis, they felt like totally different people in and out of the suits even if they looked the same.

But Marinette was not a normal person. She was a designer, she had a very critical eye, and she had just spent the better part of the last two months living in the same house as these two. And now she realized that they severely toned down the body acting and general “disguise” of their civilian selves when they were at home rather than outside. She had shrugged it off as them simply relaxing at home and, while she was right, it wasn’t until this moment that she put everything together.

“No masks, seriously? Some day, someone with eyes as good as mine is gonna figure you guys out,” she told them blandly, earning shocked blinks followed quickly by soft grins.

“I would normally sit down next to you at this point, but you haven’t exactly left us any space,” Superman— Clark, Marinette reminded herself— joked lightly. Marinette looked down to the small tip of the Eiffel Tower and back up to him, pointedly raising both eyebrows. Jon giggled.

Rolling her eyes and fighting a smile, Ladybug stood up without any apparently care about her footing. Somehow, balance seemed to just come naturally to her. It was so different from the usual Marinette that Clark and Jon had seen literally walk into a wall on multiple occasions that they had to grin. Seems like she fit right in on their acts-clumsy-and-awkward-but-isn’t trope.

(No, they later realized, that was completely Marinette. Ladybug just brought out a different side of her, but the awkwardness was still there. Just better hidden.)

“I was kinda trying to stay somewhere that nobody else could join me on purpose. You know, I was a little busy catastrophizing about you guys wanting to get rid of me now.”

“What?!” Jon asked, horrified. “No way! Even if we were normal, we wouldn’t just toss you away because we found out you’re a hero. That just— do you honestly think we would do that?”

“No,” she admitted softly, crossing her arms and sighing as she looked down over Paris. Over her city. It was a bittersweet view nowadays. “No, but I always freak out over things like that pretty easily. I’ve had people leave me over less. Sometimes it’s hard to convince myself that anyone else will be different.”

“Marinette—“

“Ladybug, actually,” she corrected with a small smile. “Don’t wanna slip up here. You never know who’s listening.”

Clark blinked, needing a moment to let that sink in before forcing himself to continue. “Ladybug, then,” he paused to gently lay a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to meet his gaze. As always it was soft. Patient. Just like his voice had been that fateful day. And, oh, there were the memories. They had both been there, helped her, and they stuck with her. Even though it hadn’t been their fault, even though they could have easily stepped back and let her deal with own problems and who had her custody on her own, they didn’t. She would have blamed them if they did, who was she to expect heroes to care about her like she was their child? That would be horrendously selfish of her. They saved hundreds of people every week.

And yet here they were, treating her like family.

And there was the phantom dust, clogging her throat. Strangling her words. She opened and closed her mouth, but nothing came out. Clark understood, he always understood, and his grip just tightened slightly. It tethered her.

“Ladybug,” he repeated even more softly. “We are not going to toss you out. Not for something like this, not for anything. You’re family now. You might not have the Kent name, you might not be kryptonian, but you’re one of us. Lois understands. Heaven knows she’s put up with both of us long enough, one more hero in the family is probably not that surprising. I just hope that… that you knowing doesn’t—“

“I don’t blame you,” there we go, her voice finally decided to work again. It came out a little hoarse, so she cleared her throat and started again. “I don’t blame you. I never did. It’s stupid, blaming a hero for things that never would have happened if the villain hadn’t attacked in the first place,” she told them, ripping her gaze away from his to trace over Paris again. “Maybe it’s because I understand that not everyone can be saved. I get it. But I never blamed you. I was actually grateful from the very beginning. You helped me dig them out even though you very well could have just carried me to the sidelines and stopped me from digging at all. And you, Jon, you didn’t complain once when I pretty much tackled you in a hug. You both sat with me as the paramedics looked me over. You didn’t leave until you were sure I was back in my hotel and in good hands. You never got impatient with me. That’s more than I could have asked for,” suddenly her mask was wet, and she roughly swiped away the tears that had leaked from her eyes. “You guys being Superman and Superboy isn’t going to make me treat you differently. It’s… actually nice. Not having to hide anymore, I mean.”

Jon grinned and flew over, enveloping her in a tight hug. Ladybug only chuckled and returned it, never once faltering in her balance. “I know exactly what you mean!” He said happily, making Ladybug laugh even more. It quickly devolved into Jon having to compensate for Ladybug’s balance, since she was suddenly leaning all her weight on him as she laughed her little heart out and no longer seemed to care about her balance at all. Not that it mattered much, Jon was more than capable of keeping her safe at close range like this, but it was cute to see. And for Clark? It was really relieving to see the girl he had come to think of as a daughter laughing so genuinely for the first time. Not a chuckle, or a soft huff of amusement, a full blown belly laugh.

It was amazing.

“Come on. I think you have some explaining to do, if you are comfortable with it anyway. Do you want to fly back, or portal back?” He asked, tilting his head slightly. He wouldn’t force Marinette to use her powers, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about them. Marinette straightened up, easily regaining her balance on the pointed tip of the tower beneath her, and slipping on a pair of glasses that she pulled… out of her yo-yo?

Wait, why was a yo-yo on her hip her only weapon? Maybe Clark should look into the Paris situation a bit more in-depth. He was clearly missing a lot, and none of what he was seeing was necessarily filling him with joy and confidence. Maybe Marinette could help soothe his worries later, if she decided to explain her abilities to them.

One transformation and a portal later, and all three of them stepped back into Marinette’s room. And when the portal closed and Marinette let down all her transformations, she took a deep breath and looked around. At both men in the room with her. At her bed and all her belongings. At the way this space has become her own. It felt nice. Warm. Welcoming, familiar.

Home.

It felt like home.

And Marinette’s smile hadn’t been quite so wide since before that infamous Metropolis trip.

Part 2

Yes, Lois kept her last name when she married Clark. I just like alliteration, okay? Besides, my story my rules lol :P

#maribat #mlb x dc #ml x dc #platonic jonette #jon kent and marinette #Marinette joins the Kent family #Marinette Kent

[moral-turpitudes]

Silver Linings: Part 5

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts 

A/N: Don’t mind me I’m just over here hyperventilating bc of this gif. 

Trigger Warnings: Angst, FLUFF.

Word Count: 1,897

Characters: Michael Gray x Alfie’s Adopted Daughter!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | *Part 4* | Part 5

***Almost 1 year later:***

“Dear Y/N,

I hope this finds you well. I’m glad to hear things are still moving along at the shop. I think it’s great you’ve moved up in the business now that you don’t have to hide. A beautiful woman like yourself should never have to. In response to your last letter, I feel it’s important to tell you that I’ll be coming back soon, this week in fact. I know you’ve said you’ve waited for me and I can’t begin to describe how relieved I am to hear that. I’ve waited for this moment as well, and I’m counting down the days until we can meet again. I’m looking forward to whatever surprise you said you’d had.

All my love,

Michael.”

Her eyes scanned the letter as she curled up on her sofa, a tea cup nestled in her hands as her heart fluttered at the letter.

It had been almost a year since Thomas’ standoff with the mafia, leading to Luca and his men’s demise. Officially clearing her of any danger, at least for the time being.

She quickly went to the phone, calling her father who was most likely at the shop, recently raking in the dough so to speak, as his rum-running business was taking off, leading to a collaboration with Michael in New York.

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know he’s coming home.” She said, the sound of the men shouting and working in the background.

“Who? The one you’ve been writing every week for the last year? Oh right what’s his name...Michael summin’ innit?” He asked, jokingly. She chuckled lightly as cries were heard from the other room.

“Yeah. I know it’s going to be tense but I’m going to need you on my side. You’ve helped me enough as it is since you felt bad after him leaving. I just need you to be on my side this time though, please?” She said.

He sighed as he thought about the last time he and Thomas had a nasty fight, knowing the new addition would force an unlikely truce between the family, one that Alfie was as hesitant to make as Tommy was. But it was needed, especially if they needed help in the long run. Each of their families coming too close to death since the standoff.

“Alright, I’ll play nice. But that’s just because I want to see that little one grow up happy you hear? I’ll ring Tommy and let him know if he doesn’t already.” He said.

“Thank you. I have to go, but I’ll come by after I uh...take care of this.” She said, knowing she had a world of explaining to do.

“Good luck, darling. I’ll see you both soon.” He said, the phone lines ending as the cries grew louder.

“Hello....Y/C/N (your child’s name) have a good nap aye? It’s okay. Shh.” She cooed as she bounced the little baby around. They were just a few months shy of their first birthday.

“You’re going to meet your father this week sweetheart. He’ll love you. I promise.” She said, carrying the little bundle into the living room as she listened to them babbling.

As the day drug on she realized the date on the letter read a few days ago, meaning Michael was most likely going to be there today.

“Christ....” she mumbled as she held the baby who looked more like their father each day.

Over the time that their child had been in the world, she’d grown to like Michael’s mother Polly. Becoming ever thankful to have someone who understood her plight at a young age. Polly hated that her nephew and her father tore them apart, but at the time it was the best thing to do. But when she noticed Y/N started getting sick after meeting with her on occasion, Polly had known. She knew just in the way she carried herself, and how her eyes sunk with the newfound exhaustion. She even read her tea leaves which Alfie was skeptical of at first, but she knew and it was true. After she’d found out, Y/N pondered over her weekly letters, wondering if she should tell him the sudden news, but she figured it was best to keep it to herself and the family for the baby’s safety. But now, since the threat from the Changretta’s were gone, and with the news of Michael’s arrival, she figured now was as good of a time as ever.

As the evening drew near, she put Y/C/N down for bed, praying that when we he did come, he didn’t wake them up.

After pouring herself a glass of wine, she heard a knock at the door, her heart racing as she opened it see Michael, holding a small bouquet of flowers.

“Told you I’d be back.” He said with a grin. He’d pretty much looked the same, except his fashion sense improved a bit. His hair more slicked back than usual and his eyes slightly more tired, but not as tired as her own.

She couldn’t say anything at first, just wrapping him into a long hug on her doorstep.

“My god I’m so glad to see you. I um....I have a surprise. I just....I don’t want you to be mad alright?” She said hurriedly as if he’d leave again.

“Aye slow down sweetheart, it’s alright. I’m not leaving anytime soon. Lemme look at you...Wow.” He said twirling her around, noticing the more prominent circles under her eyes and the way her hair was slightly disheveled. She was still as beautiful as he’d remembered.

“You look beautiful. Maybe a little tired, but just as beautiful as when I left.” He said, giving her a kiss that was long over-due.

“That’s why I wanted to show your surprise. I...I have a good explanation besides work picking up and all. Take a seat in the living room and try not to be too loud.” She said rather quietly as he entered the apartment.

He didn’t think much of it as he sat down in the familiar living room, his heart aching at how he’d left the same room so long ago. But his demeanor soon changed though as he saw the sleeping baby in Y/N’s arms, his mind racing with trying to figure out how and when, and unfortunately with whom this could’ve happened with.

“Michael, please don’t be mad. I uh...after you left-“ She began as he cut her off. His voice blank as stared at the wall.

“Is that....is that someone else’s child Y/N?” He asked.

“What? No. Michael...they’re yours. It’s our child, I’ve named them Y/C/N.” She said swallowing hard, her worst fear seemingly coming to life as she knew he may not have taken the news well.

“Really?” He asked as her answer sank in, a small smile forming on his face as he looked at the little one wrapped in a small blanket, clearly still asleep.

“Yeah. I waited...and obviously couldn’t do much in the waiting anyways. I just....didn’t know when to tell you because I didn’t know if it was safe with the mafia and all. I just wanted to keep them safe. I hope you can understand.” She said, tears falling down her cheeks as she quickly wiped them away.

Michael quickly sat near her, holding her to him as he looked down at his child. His world feeling like it was changing with every millisecond.

“I don’t blame you alright love? I’m glad you’re both safe. That’s all I care about. I’m just sad I couldn’t have been there, but we have all the time to make up for it, yeah?” He asked, his heart about to explode as he realized he’s a father. The baby looking like him the more he gazed at them. In that moment wanting to protect them more than anything else in the world.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you and our child alright? I’m here now.” He said, helping her calm down as the baby started fussing about.

“Shhh. It’s okay love.” Y/N said gently, sniffling and wiping away her tears as she handed the baby to Michael.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his hands shaking slightly as he didn’t want to drop them.

“You’re their father. I trust you more than the family.” She said as he cradled the small bundle.

“They’ll be a year old in a few months. I think Y/C/N may have brought our families together. At least somewhat.” She said with a nervous chuckle.

The baby settled down as they fell asleep in the comfort of Michael’s arms. Causing a huge smile to form on his face.

“I can’t see why they couldn’t bring them together. I’m assuming my mum is handling it better than Thomas.” He said, an understandable annoyance in his tone towards his older blinder cousin.

“Yeah...Polly could tell I was pregnant just weeks after you’d left. She gave him a stern talking to though. I’ve come to like your mum after all. She’s a nice woman.” She said.

“How did your father take the news?” He asked.

“He was kind of like Thomas, only he felt more guilt. He knew making you leave would upset me and once he found out, he wanted to get you back once the Changretta drama had been resolved. But Thomas kind of kept him from infringing upon that plan. Him doing the rum business with you was his way of extending an olive branch I think.” She said, taking a deep breath as she laid her head on his shoulder. Taking in his familiar scent that she longed to have back all those months ago.

“I’m glad you came back though. I don’t think we could’ve gone much longer without you knowing. It ate me up inside not telling you but I’m so glad you’re here love. We need you.” She said, glancing at the flowers he’d set on the table.

“I have a feeling I’ll be staying a while now. So don’t worry about me. I’ll figure things out with Tom and the rest.” He said, brushing his hand softly over the baby’s little head, the hair so fine and fragile he pulled his hand away slowly, not wanting to disturb them.

“Y/C/N’s perfect. I....I can’t believe it. I never thought I’d come home to this....Thank you love. You’ve done so much. I’ll repay you, I’ll be sure to once this all gets settled.” He said.

“Just you being here is payment enough. Thank you for waiting. I know I sure did.” She said, yawning then kissing his cheek. A long, yet peaceful silence formed between them as the stars sparkled out the window, filling the room with a lovely blue glow.

“Well love, if you want to, you can stay up with them for a bit. I’d really like the sleep.” She said chuckling lightly.

“Of course. I’ll be there soon.” He said staring at the new little light in his life.

“Alright, goodnight you two. Love you.” She said.

“Love you too.” He said back, glad he was finally able to say it in person.

Never in a million years would he have thought something like that would come out of such a tense situation, but maybe there were silver linings in life after all, they both just had to wait long enough to finally see them.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders fanfic #michael gray x female!reader #michael gray x reader #michael gray x y/n #michael gray #it’s cliche I feel like but my heart needed a happy ending for this lol

[dessarious]

What Makes a Family? Pt7

As previously stated, DC can’t figure out their own story and timeline so I don’t have to either. lol So, yes I’m aware that this doesn’t fit with canon. No I absolutely don’t care. :)

AO3  Beginning   Previous   Next

“You’re the one that requested to speak with me alone, so what is it you wanted to tell me?” Marinette watched as Alfred hesitated over the question.

“To be honest I thought you’d have questions you’d want answered and even if you trust your friends a family I still think it’s a good idea to give you the information and let you choose how and when to share it with them.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “Especially questions concerning the circumstances of your birth.” Well that didn’t sound ominous at all.

“Does he really want to meet me? Or does he just want to make sure I’m not a liability to him and his company?” It obviously wasn’t the question he’d been expecting. Alfred didn’t show much expression but that actually caused a pained look that softened into concern.

“He wants to have a relationship with you. Master Bruce has many flaws, and given the way some of the others turned out it may be for the best you were raised by someone else, but he loves his children.” Children? She hadn’t even thought about that. She’d been an only child her whole life and it hadn’t even occurred to her that it might change.

“I have siblings?” Was she supposed to be happy or worried about that? “Do they want to meet me?” Oh Kwami, what should she do? How should she act? She’d have to make them all gifts but what if they didn’t like them? What if they hated her? Suddenly Alfred was holding her hands.

“Deep breaths. That’s it.” She gave him a sheepish smile. No one in the family was going to want anything to do with her if she kept up at this rate.

“Sorry. I just never even considered… It’s a lot to process.” He squeezed her hands and gave an encouraging smile.

“It’s completely understandable Miss. As to your question, they don’t know yet. Master Bruce wanted to see if you wanted contact at all first. The last thing anyone wants is the boys descending on Paris without warning.” His dry tone got a laugh out of her.

“I thought we were done with this ‘Miss’ nonsense Grandpa Alfie.” He was trying to hide smile so she knew he didn’t actually mind her persistence. “So how many siblings do I have exactly?”

“That gets a bit complicated. You have two half-siblings that we’re aware of, as well as multiple officially and unofficially adopted siblings. Officially it would be three adopted brothers, Master Damian - who is your half-brother by master Bruce - and Miss Cassandra is your twin.” Wait what?

“I thought you said two half siblings.” Her voice was weak but she couldn’t help it. Twin? If Bruce Wayne didn’t know about her how did he end up with her sister?

“And that’s another part of why it’s complicated. You and Miss Cassandra shared a womb and have the same mother, but the embryos were fertilized by two different men.” She could only stare at him for a moment as her brain tried to process any of that.

“Wait, if we have different fathers then how did she end up with mine?” The man had more than enough money to do a DNA test, obviously, so if their mother just dropped the wrong baby on his doorstep surely he would have checked. Right?

“I don’t know that I can give you the full explanation right now, but Master Bruce adopted Miss Cassandra in her teens. None of us knew about the pair of you. I know it probably seems unbelievable, but it is the truth.” Her teens… no, that actually made perfect sense.

“She was thirteen wasn’t she?” The surprised look on Alfred’s face was all the answer she needed. If she had to guess it was within a week of when she got her Miraculous. That was concerning, on so many levels. “I need to meet her as soon as possible.” Alfred was frowning at her.

“I’m sure we can arrange something, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to just set up a meeting without-”

“I appreciate your concern but I really need to meet her. I’d like to get to know all of you, but I have a feeling we’re supposed to be together.” And she needed to interrogate a couple Kwami in the meantime but that was another matter entirely. He looked rather taken aback at being interrupted and she winced at her shortness. “Sorry. I’m sure it sounds strange…” He actually rolled his eyes.

“Not at all. I have a feeling you’ll fit right in. And you at least won’t destroy my kitchen.” She laughed but she could see the strain on his face. “At the same time, there are some things I should warn you about with Miss Cassandra… as well as your birth mother.” He watched her expression but she didn’t know for what. “Unless you’re already aware of who she is?” It was that searching look again and she was just confused by it.

“No. All I have is the note she left with me. My parents never met her as far as they know. They just found me on their doorstep with all the documentation they needed. As far as the legal system is concerned I’ve never had any other parents.” Was it strange? Incredibly so, but it wasn’t even surprising at this point. Alfred actually looked relieved.

“That is for the best.” His tone was… she couldn’t place it and that worried her. He also seemed at a loss of how to continue but she just waited. She wasn’t sure if it was out of respect for him or because she wasn’t certain she wanted to hear what he had to say. “Once your DNA test hit the system Master Bruce wasn’t the only one to find it. Your mother actually contacted us as I was preparing to leave to make sure we would help protect you.” It took everything in her to keep a straight face. Protect her. If only he knew.

“From what exactly?” He didn’t want to tell her, she could see it. The question was how much was because he didn’t trust her?

“Have you ever heard of the League of Assassins?” His tone said he expected her to say no.

“League of Assassins? As in Ra’s and Talia al’Ghul?” She winced as soon as the words came out. She absolutely should not know that. Granted the shock on Alfred’s face was almost worth it. Almost.

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@moonystars14 @ladybug-182 @elmokingkong @smolplantmum @jessigurl-design @trippingovermyfeet @its-salty-bug @whydoexamsexist @scorchdragon88 @alenee13 @lil-1254s-blog @sturchling @random-fandoms7 @fandom-writer642 @chylou34 @thewitchwhowaited @junarvion @laurcad123 @hakoirii @aestheticnpoetic @aegyobutpsycho2 @sassakitty @swiftie-miraculer13 @miraculous-simmer7 @peachedpocky @misslenamooney @shamefullove

#bio dad bruce wayne #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #Alfred Pennyworth #non canon

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Finding Out

Summary: Reader visits The Empty to retrieve Cas and finds out who her parents were, one of which was right there with her all along.

TW/CW: Sam Winchester x Daughter!Reader. Angst (towards the end). “Orphaned” Reader taken in by the Winchesters. Mentions of Sam Winchester x Ruby.

Requested?: Yes, a lovely Anon said, “Could you do a Sam x daughter!reader where they found her as a baby but she was half demon so they took her in to try and be good and she grows up with them and stuff and then I’m season 15 instead of Cas going to the empty it’s her going (bc she’s half demon) where they find Ruby and Ruby admits to the reader that she’s her mother and Sams her father”

Word Count: 1,423

A/N: I feel like I should warn that I haven’t watched season 15 yet but I can still write her going to the empty bc I know what it is. I’ll try my best 😊 I hope it’s okay considering I didn’t really know what I was doing lol. I tried to make it somewhat fit into the timeline but it’s a little funky. Anyway, love to all!

Your POV

    Hi, I’m (Y/n). I was adopted into a pretty cool family when I was just a kid. I don’t remember much about it because I was only about three years old. I have an older brother named Jack Kline. He’s what they call a Nephilim which is a half human, half angel. Biologically, he’s the son of Lucifer but he always insists that his real dad is Castiel. Castiel is an angel. Then there’s Sam and Dean Winchester. They’re brothers but they act a lot like I think a mom and dad would to me. Sam is like my mom, he’s always helping me out with my studying, training, and making sure that I remember to eat. When I get in trouble, he’s the one giving me the stern mom look that I’ve seen Grandma Jody give him and Dean. Dean on the other hand usually acts like he’s upset but as soon as Sam turns his back, Dean is high fiving me for being hilarious or smart or whatever but telling me not to do it again because Sam didn’t like it. He also taught me a lot about working on cars because I help him fix Baby all the time. If we ever decide to drop the hunting life, which I doubt we will, I’d love for me and him to open a garage together.

    Anyway, enough about them. You probably would like to know a little more about me. Like I said, I was adopted when I was about three years old because someone left me on the doorstep of the motel that Sam and Dean were staying in then. I don’t remember who it was but I remember them telling me to wait there because the people inside would take care of me until my mommy came back to get me. I never knew where she went and because of it I grew up pretty quickly thinking that she just didn’t want a little child and would come back for a teenager, she didn’t. I became what most people would say is about sixteen or seventeen. I remember Jack doing the same thing after he was born. It surprised Sam, Dean, and Cas when I did it but they assumed it was because of who I am.  You’re probably thinking, okay so you’re a Nephilim, who are your parents? That’s just it. I don’t know who my parents are but I do know that I’m not half angel. I’m half demon. Cas realized that almost immediately. For a while, there was some debate about whether they would keep me but they finally decided that they would, but the search for my parents didn’t stop there.

    They called up an old friend who happens to be the King of Hell and asked him if he could tell who my parents were or at least the demon half of the pair but no such luck. So, as my powers started manifesting themselves, we started training. It took some time but I eventually became able to control them and sometimes I use them on hunts but not often as it attracts a lot of attention.  

    I’m dragged away from my walk down memory lane as I sense something shift around me. I open my eyes and look around but see nothing. Literally, it’s a giant void. I remember now. I came to The Empty to get Cas back. “You’re so much older than I expected. I bet you still have your dad’s eyes huh? Not exactly something you can get rid of,” I hear someone say behind me. Turning around, I am faced with a woman who looks almost exactly like me. She’s a small bit taller and has brown eyes instead of green like mine. She’s also wearing an outfit similar to mine. If it weren’t for the small subtle differences, I’d think that I’m looking in a mirror.

    “Who are you? You’re not like me from the future, are you?” I inquire.

    “That sense of humor sounds a lot like Dean’s,” she says laughing, “No, I’m not you from the future. How would you change your eye color to make that happen?”

    I tilt my head and think for a moment, she has a point. Before I can say anything else, another voice joins the conversation, with a hint of bitterness in their tone, “She’s your mother.” I recognize that voice instantly as Cas appears at my side.

    The woman in front of me smiles and looks at Cas, “Come on, Castiel. I was trying to break it to her gently,” she looks back at me, “I’m your mom. My name is Ruby.”

    I’m quiet for a moment as I process this new information, “So, if you’re my mom then you should know who my dad is right?”  

    Ruby shares a certain look with Cas that I recognize as a, “Do you want to tell her or should I?” look. Cas nods so Ruby looks back at me, “Sam is your dad.”  

    Before I can ask any more questions, a loud noise erupts from somewhere in the darkness and Cas grabs my arm, “We need to go. That’s it.”

    Ruby looks to me with a sad smile, “I love you, kiddo. Always remember that.” With that, she waves her arm and Cas and I are thrown aside. Suddenly, it's hard to tell if my eyes are open and I’m still somewhere in The Empty or my eyes are closed and I’m not. I hear someone calling my name and realize I need to open my eyes. As I do, the light is almost unbearable but squatting beside me are Sam, Dean, and Jack. I sit up and rub my eyes as I try to make sense of the information, I just learned moments before.

    I look up as someone starts gently rubbing my back. Jack is now sitting cross legged beside me and Dean is squatting down to our level but Sam and Cas are nowhere to be found. “You okay?” Dean asks quietly. Before I can answer, Sam and Cas reenter the room. I stand, as do Dean and Jack, and watch Sam carefully, wondering if Cas told him. Sam takes a deep breath before racing forward and wrapping me in a hug. I quickly return it.

    When we pull apart, Dean and Jack look very confused as Sam looks down at me with a smile and moves my hair out of my face, “I’ve had a hunch for a while that you were her daughter. There’s no denying that you look almost exactly like her but I had no idea that you’re mine too.”

    “Hang on, did I just hear you right?” Dean questions.

    Sam and I both turn to look at Dean as Cas answers, “(Y/n) is the daughter of Sam and Ruby.”

    Dean’s shocked expression is almost cartoon like as he opens and closes his mouth looking for a response like a fish looking for water. We all sit down around one of the tables in the library as Cas explains everything that Ruby told him prior to my arrival in The Empty. Apparently, after she and Sam spent their time together, she found out that she was pregnant. When she died, Crowley found me and left me for Sam and Dean to take care of because if he couldn’t just get rid of me and he had his hands too full to take care of me himself. Everyone seemed kind of shocked but processed it rather quickly. I on the other hand felt like I now had a gaping hole in my chest, like something was missing. I just found out that she’s my mom but I can’t ever see her again. I silently get up from the table and make my way to my room. Behind me, I hear Sam tell the others, “She probably needs some time alone. One of us can check on her in a little bit.” As I close my door behind me and flop down onto my bed, the hole in my chest begins to ache and tears break through the dam. I snuggle up to one of my pillows and not for the first time in my life, I wish I had my mom there to comfort me but it hurts even worse now that I have a face to put to the title. Soon, I manage to cry myself to sleep and drift off into dreams that are sure to sting when I wake up.

Masterlist

Taglist: @emiijemii​ @castiels-majestic-wings​

#sam winchester #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester imagines #sam winchester x daughter!reader #sam winchester oneshot #sam winchester oneshots #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural imagines #supernatural oneshots #supernatural oneshot #spn ruby

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Do you think you could do headcanons for if Richie got a woman pregnant on a one-night-stand, and the woman just ended up dropping the baby on his doorstep, and how the losers, including Richie, would react?

- let’s say this happens a few months after Derry 2.0

- because before that Richie was still very deep in the closet and he trying to prove to everyone around him that he’s very heterosexual.

- The woman he has a one night stand with is friends with Steve, mostly because he is secretly hoping she tell Steve about their night

- (Richie thinks Steve is suspecting that he’s gay and want to nip it in the bud)

- They go back to Richie’s place on evening after getting McDonald’s and it’s fine, obviously Richie doesn’t feel anything for her but she’s nice enough that he likes talking to her

- One thing leads to another and they spend the night together

- The next day things aren’t hostile between them but it is akward because Richie is nervously fluttering hoping she’ll go home soon

- She does and they don’t keep in touch, which is fine for Richie. He doesn’t want to feel the guilt every time he looks at her knowing that he used her for his own gain.

- Richie mostly forgets about that night and her, and after Derry he’s too busy to pay that night any thought

- His head over heels for Eddie now, and he’s gearing up to tell him soon.

- He’s waiting for Eddie’s divorce to come through. He doesn’t want to add pressure on Eddie during such a demanding time but, he’s excited for what will happen after.

- So they’re not yet dating, but they’re getting there. It’s just a matter of time.

- And then Steve shows up with his baby one morning.

- He’s pale white, and the hand of which he’s hold the maxicosi is trembling

- Of course, Richie being the trash mouth that he is, starts making fun of him.

- He doesn’t understand why Steve would have a baby with him (as far as he’s heard Steve didn’t want kids) but the comedy gold is right there for grabbing.

- ‘What’s the baby for Steve? Did you father a baby I didn’t know anything about?’

- Uno reverse card

- When Steve bashfully admits that it’s not his kid, but Richie’s, the latter laughs.

- At first he’s convinced it’s just Steve messing with him, but Steve would never go as far as to kidnap a baby.

- He still continues to chuckle even after apprehension starts to take hold him off

- ‘It’s not a joke Richie, this is your daughter.’

- Instead of becoming serious as the situation calls for it, Richie begins to cackle.

- Not laugh, not chuckle or snort, cackle.

- He’s so confused, and flabbergasted and he can’t believe this tiny human thing crying in her crib is his.

- ‘I’m just the messenger man,’ Steve placates, slowly sinking the carrier to the ground.

- When Richie is finally done laughing ( it goes on for a very long time) Steve is itching to get out of there.

- He leaves with very little more explanation other than; ‘it was your one night stand from a few months ago, she doesn’t have a name yet, and her mother is refusing to take care of her.

- Richie finds himself just staring at this tiny little thing that’s beginning to cry and whimper as she kicks her tiny feet in the air.

- She starts to cry earnestly after about five minutes, not to fond of not being payed attention too for so long

- Richie tries to shush her gently, but it’s a baby and they don’t listen to what anyone tells them too.

- The cries grow in intensity, and Richie’s slowly losing his mind.

- He’s pacing his apartment, in a daze. He’s working on automatic pilot, because he can’t comprehend the fact that he just became a father, he’s clueless about what to do

- His own daughters birthday remains a mystery to him for god sake.

- If Richie were thinking logically, he’d call Steve and ask him to come back and explain everything in a better way, but he’s not, and he can only think with his emotions.

- He ends up calling Ben and Bev.

- His first instinct was to call Eddie, seeing as Eddie is his best friend and all, but Eddie would panicked just as much as him and that would be of no help.

- Reaching out to Stan also pops up in his mind, but he can’t deal with cynical saying right now. He needs people who will be sympathetic towards him and hopefully tell him what to do.

- On the phone he barely explains anything to bev and Ben, but he does tell them to hurry up.

- When they get to the apartment, Ben and Bev are shocked at seeing the little baby, and get concerned after Richie fails to give them an answer about how or why she’s in his house.

- Regardless, they step up up to the task and do their best to take care of the girl they know nothing about.

- Ben drives to the store to get formula and blankets and diapers, while Bev fishes her out of her crib and begins to slowly rock her. They’re both calm and collected.

- Richie on the other hand is snapping out of his haze, and the reality of the situation begins to dawn on him.

- Bev tries to console him but it’s hard when she has zero background information.

- Ben comes back and heats up her formula, but she refuses to drink and lets out a piercing cry in refusal.

- Even Bev’s rocking isn’t doing anything the south the baby, and out of desperation, Richie begins to cry.

- Because Bev is out of option herself, and doesn’t have a clue on how to help Richie, she passes him the baby.

- Richie is terrified of holding this petit thing that fits just exactly right in his arms. He’s scared of crushing her or dropping her and messing her up for life.

- But miraculously, as soon as she’s snuggled in his arms, she stops crying.

- She’s just content to lay there with her dad, who eventually tries to bottle feed her and it works. She eagerly drinks from it.

- First crisis evaded

- But, after everyone has processed the first major shock, Richie needs to give Ben and Bev the answers they deserve now.

- Richie tries to be as straight forward as he can, but he hasn’t had the details yet himself.

- The two losers insists that he tells the others of their group right away. It’s too big of a secret to hide, and they need all the help they can get.

- Again, none of the losers are informed as to why they have to go to Richie’s house ASAP, but they still do, because he’s there best friend and they wouldn’t be called if it wasn’t important.

- It’s Stan and Patty that arrive after Bev and Ben.

- Stan and Patty are less astounded for some reason.

- Patty doesn’t even inquire, she just goes straight into cooing over the baby fase.

- She’ll sit next to Richie (still holding his daughter) and begins talking gibberish to the baby about how beautiful she is.

- Richie agrees.

- Stan follows her lead, but he simply observes the two of them together and then sits near touching to Richie.

- ‘I should have know you’d be the first one with a kid Trashmouth.’

- But he doesn’t lecture Richie, or starts to interrogate him about anything.

- He must have sensed that Richie wasn’t up to it at the moment.

- Bill and Mike are next.

- Within stepping one food inside the place, and spotting Richie with a baby, Bill laughs, and asks him who he knocked up.

- He intends it as a joke, obviously, but when no one else laughs, he realises how right he is.

- ‘Richie... have you been keeping your baby from us for three months?’ Mike asks, a little offended.

- ‘What do you mean three months?’

- ‘She’s clearly three months old. You can tell by her development.’ When everyone just stares at him, Mike explains further. ‘I had a lot of time on my my hands after you all left Derry. Maybe I spend that time reading children books.’

- He doesn’t more time to elaborate, because that’s the moment Eddie arrives.

- It’s his reaction Richie is most frightened off.

- He’s in love with Eddie, loves him with all his heart, but he can’t ask Eddie to date a man that just became a father. That would mean not only choosing him, but also his child.

- Eddie looks at the baby, at Richie and then back, and follows it up by cursing;’what the fuck’. loudly.

- The harsh sound startles the baby, but with a gentle kiss on the forehead that Richie gives her, she’s pacified back into sleep.

- ‘Oh shit, oh no. I need an explanation, right now.’

- Richie explains the story yet again, and hopes that none of his friends will label him as an asshole at the end of it.

- Of course they don’t, but Eddie is headed up over the whole situation.

- ‘I know a lot of lawyers after my divorce with Myra, I could hook you up someone.’

- ‘She can’t just dump her baby on you without any of the proper paperwork. What if she has a deadly disease and needs to get continuos treatment?’

- Eddie’s ‘advice’ turns Richie’s complexion green, and his stomach in knots. He’s never had to thought of that stuff before, and now he has a whole human being that depends on him for everything.

- Stan snaps at Eddie to stop him from adding more stress onto Richie, which Eddie does with a guilty apologie.

- ‘Look Richie,’ Stan says to him with full seriousness. ‘You need to decide what you’re going to do,and unfortunately you do not have a lot of time. You cannot put this off, she needs a name, and a crib and everything she needs to survive. You need to make a decision if you’re keeping her.’

- Richie gazes down upon his baby. The same baby he hasn’t let go off from the second he held her. He’s so scared, beyond explanation or able to put it in words, but this is his daughter. He could give her up for adoption, and he live would remain the same, but he knows she excites now, and to give her away to strangers? He don’t think he could have the heart.

- But...

- ‘I can’t do it by myself’, he admits, voice small and honest.

- ‘You’d never have to.’ Eddie responds, one of his fingers stroking over the ring babies head. He looks absolutely smitten.

- His life was uprooted once again, but last time the change wasn’t bad at all. Richie is confident, this won’t be bad either.

- Barely a month later Eddie moves in with them full time, and becomes pops to Maggie lover Tozier.

#adult reddie #reddie #reddie hc #hc #losers club hc #it chapter two #it chapter two hc #my writing #Richie has a daughter #Richie as a dad #Richie as a father #the losers are very supportive

[roger-that-cap]

once upon a december

summary: you had no idea who you were, how you got to where you were, or even your real age. all you knew was that you needed to go to auren, and something there would help you find the family that you always secretly craved. little did you know, you’d find family far before you actually got to auren.

warnings: nothin’. maybe a little swearing possibly? memory loss (lol)

word count: 4.7k

so, not this being my first multi-chaptered fic up here… WOW. there’s absolutely no reason for me to put this out right now other than the fact that i wanted it to leave my drafts. ha!

part one!

You had known the cold your whole life.  When you woke up after god knows what happened, you were in the cold snow, face buried in it, clothes wet with it, and so that was what you knew. You laid in the snow for what seemed like forever, and you were lucky that a man was on his horse, selling trinkets that were said to belong to some lost princess of a far off land. The “Land of Always Summer”, everyone in the orphanage liked to call it. He carried you up onto his horse and dumped you right at the orphanage, and you weren’t even conscious enough to move your lips to thank him. But you would never forget his face and the way he tipped his hat, snow flurrying around before hopping up on his horse again and disappearing like he never existed in the first place. 

  The cold was the first thing you remembered, and the first part of the life that you now knew. Everything else was such a blur that you never even bothered to attempt at remembering what your life used to be, especially not when all of the other kids were around. 

  Growing up, they all thought you were weird. They had all been dropped off as young children, some even babies in the vicious winter storm. They knew that they couldn’t have done anything that made their parents want to chuck them, because they were too young to do so. But you? For you to have been thrown to the side at fifteen or sixteen years old, you must have been really weird. And to make it worse, you couldn’t even defend yourself. You knew nothing about yourself. Not even your name. But they had that covered for you.  

 At first, they called you Stacy. It was an old name, a name that was slowly on the rise again. It was easy to remember, and it wasn’t degrading, so you went with it at first. And then, one night, you woke up and shook your head, determined to name yourself, and not have others name you. You would give yourself at least that. Something would be yours, and if it wasn’t going to be memories, then it would be your name. You decided randomly on Y/N, and then that was what you were called from there. For years at the orphanage, that was who you were. 

  But you were done. It was the day. You had finally come of age, and it was time for you to leave, unless you wanted to be employed there. You surely did not. You were ready to get away from the people that ran the place, and the children that you grew up with and watched grow, except one. You were packing your bag, trying to keep the smile off of your face in order to not make any of the others feel bad. 

 “Today, isn’t it?” You jumped, even though the voice was one that you easily recognized. It was Lucas, the little boy who had practically become your shadow ever since he was brought to the doorstep as a baby. You were the oldest kid, you were a girl, and he had no mother. You were the one who was in charge of taking care of him because somehow, you knew how to take care of children. And you loved him, you loved him more than you had ever loved anything in your “new” life. He would be the hardest thing to leave, without question. 

  “Yes, honey.” You stopped packing your small bag so that you could walk up to him and crouch down to his height, his curly hair and sad brown eyes really plucking at your heartstrings. “I’m leaving now.” 

  “When will you be back?” He asked slowly, his eyes getting a little watery. But he had thick skin, skin so thick, skin that no child should have to wear. He wiped his eyes quickly. “Will you be back at all?” 

  “I will be, one day.” He was young, and you were hopeful, but you both knew that the chances of you coming back to the mild hell of the orphanage were slim to none. 

  “I want to leave, too.” He said, his voice tapering off into a whine at the end, his brows scrunching together. “I don’t like it here.” 

In every aspect, you thought about taking him with you. But you had nothing to support him with. You were sure that you were going to starve for a while even by yourself, and you couldn’t take the possibility of him being taken in by a good family who could provide for him away because you wanted to keep him close. “I know you don’t, sweetheart. But someone is going to see just how adorable you are and give you everything you want, alright?” 

 “A good mommy or daddy?” 

“Absolutely, my love.” You pulled him into a hug and closed your eyes, and you knew that it would probably be the last time that you were ever going to hug him. You squeezed him twice, drawing out a giggle from his little body. “Because you… what? Finish.” 

 “Because I deserve it.” 

You pulled away and smiled with pride. “That’s right. Because you deserve it.” You patted his head before turning to finish with your bag, and you hoped that you were fast enough so that he didn’t see your watering eyes. 

 It took him a few more minutes to say anything, but you knew that he was standing there and watching with his wide eyes, curiosity flaring up inside of him like always. “Don’t you have a coat?” He asked quietly. “It’s winter time.” 

“Sure, I have a coat,” you lied, your voice a calming hum in the otherwise quiet room.

 You didn’t have a coat anymore. You gave him your coat not even three weeks ago, when the heat of the fire wasn’t enough for him to stay warm in the dark of the night. You worked with dull scissors all night and a thick sewing needle that you borrowed without the warden knowing, and you got to work with the needle and made him a nice fur blanket. It was much nicer than any of the ones that any of you and the others had ever been given, and he was convinced that you hired a seamstress to make it for him. You took the compliment. 

  That was your clue, though. Your singular clue to who you were, and it wasn't even big. You remembered how to do nothing but walk, talk, write, and read in the beginning. You were about as smart as anyone else, and unlike them, you had no hobbies. Until you went to a village and saw a cheap little sewing kit, and it sparked something so faint in your mind that you knew that you would work extra chores just to be able to buy it. You knew it. 

 You were an absolute goddess with a needle and some fabric, as it turned out. Your hand never wavered, your aim was never off, and no stitch was ever too tight or too loose. Your first stitching was immaculate, and so were your second, and third, and so forth. It wasn’t until Sophia, a girl who had been with you since you had started, suggested that it was a clue to who you once were that you truly considered it to be. From then on, sewing was all you had. You hoped that it would be enough. 

  “Why don’t you get on to breakfast, and I’ll be there in a few minutes.” You suggested, turning your head to give him a little smile of encouragement. He shrugged his shoulders and bounded away, leaving you with your own thoughts for a moment. 

You knew what you had to do. You had to go to the nearest town and get a job there, wherever you could knit something. You would get fast money there, hopefully, and maybe the money that you got would make you enough to buy a ticket, one to take you to the one place that stuck in your mind like it was pasted. Auren. 

Ever since you heard of the land where warmth surrounded you and the sun came down brightly on everything that breathed, you wanted to go. The cold was welcoming in a way, but the Kingdom of Auren was said to be the prettier one between it and Yuran. Yuran was cold and unforgiving, but beautiful if one allowed themselves an open mind. You didn’t want to have to think too much, not about something that should be so plain in front of you. But Auren was far, and it was expensive to get there. 

Chore money hardly got you that sewing kit, and it sure as hell wasn’t enough for a horse, or a train ticket. 

  By the time you got to the breakfast table with your bag around your shoulders, your plate was already made. Lucas was sitting next to it, where he always sat, and he grinned at you the second you walked into the room. The others were all demolishing their breakfast, because it was a good meal today. Bacon and eggs and even pancakes, which were a rarity. A big meal was made every time a person aged out or got adopted, and it was tradition. You almost teared up. It was your big meal, this time. 

You sat down in the chair and ruffled Lucas’s hair, putting the napkin on your lap and rearranging your spoon and fork. The sounds of cutlery against dishes was almost as loud as the others chewing, sloppily and without a care in the world as they stole glances at you, even the ones who didn’t particularly care for you. 

“Loosen up, would you?” A boy named Julius asked, like he did at every meal. “You always look so… so…” 

“You look fancy when you eat.” Sophia explained in a bored tone, nodding towards the way you held your fork and knife. “I don’t know why he feels the need to say it every single time we sit down together, but-”

“Because it’s true, Sophie,” he spat, and you sighed. You wouldn't miss the arguing, that was for sure. 

“So, where will you go?” Dalia, a brown skinned girl who had the cutest gap in her teeth and the brightest eyes in the orphanage asked. 

“I’m hoping to get a job as a seamstress in the village,” you said somewhat strongly, even though you were nervous. Actually, you were nearly bursting out of your own skin. What if they didn’t take you? 

“That will be a good job for you, you’re really good at it.” The entire facility could agree on that. Every time one of them ruined their pants or ripped a shirt so badly that the caretakers just told them to throw it away, they came to you. From the time that you came and up until the day you left, you had made entire wardrobes for them all. 

“I hope so, Dal.” You sighed out, giving a nice smile when you put a syrupy piece of pancake in your mouth, not talking until you swallowed again. “Are you guys going to be good?” 

“We’re always good, Y/N,” Lucas said with a small eye roll. “You don’t have to worry about us.” You wished that you didn’t. 

After everyone was finished eating, the door opened, and in walked the tall and broad shouldered woman who owned the orphanage. You saw all of the other kids sigh and look away, and you did the opposite. You were older, and this woman was mean, but she didn’t scare you. She was bitter, but that was all she was. “You’re leaving.” 

“In a few minutes,” you added, and then kept eye contact with her when you put a piece of bacon in your mouth, nearly collapsing at the taste. God, breakfast hadn’t been so good since Susanne left. You felt Lucas tug on your pant leg, his arm reaching under the table. 

“Good.” The woman said, and she gave you a once over. “I imagine that you’d want to work at the dress shop in the village, correct?” 

“That’s my goal.” 

“Hm.” She took a few steps closer. “I heard there’s an opening there, if you want it.” She looked towards the windows. “But you’ll have to make it quick. You’re not the only girl with quick fingers and a needle, you know.”

She wanted you out. You knew that. She never really liked you, and you never cared for her much, either. You came too late for her to get attached to, not even in that oddly placed way that she loved everyone else. “When do you suggest I take my leave?”

“Within the hour,” she answered immediately. “You don’t want to get lost in the dark, you know.” You frowned. It was eight in the morning, there was no way that the sun was going down any time soon. You knew that she just wanted you to leave, and so did everyone else at the table who was older than nine. 

“Okay.” You said, not anywhere near to being in the mood to start an argument with her. That’s not how you wanted Lucas to remember you, at all. So, you kissed his forehead, waved goodbye to all of the other kids, and then got up from your chair. 

The worst part of leaving was finally approaching, close enough to raise its fist and knock on your door. You had seen it happen millions of times it seemed, and yet, you thought that you would be exempt from it. The children were always ushered back to their rooms once another left, and you were sure that it had everything to deal with not wanting them to see what freedom looked like. The warden didn’t want them to witness what it looked like when an orphan got their own wings.

“Wait!” Lucas shouted, and he nearly yanked your arm out of the socket before shoving a little, wooden toy soldier in your hand, the one that he always played with. 

Your heart was warm. It was so warm that you had a hard time forming your next words, your mind so full of adoration for this little boy who had been your living shadow, your source of happiness in a world that had given you none at all, nevermind on a silver platter. You took in a deep breath at seeing one out of two of his favorite toys, the one that he always made you take so that he could play with the other one. The one he was trying to give you had an idle gun with it, and the other had it cocked aimed. Lucas’s one won every time. 

You gave him a sad smile. “No, kiddo, you can keep it.” 

“I have another one.” He rushed out. “Please, take it. That way we can still play when we’re far away.” 

Oh. Oh. If you could have chosen to stay there with him until he grew too old to be there, you would have. You would have a million times over. You knew that he had even the old, bitter woman thinking twice about her decision to throw you out when she made a hmph noise and turned away, her long dress exiting last. 

“Alright. I’ll take it, Lucas.” You ruffled his hair again. “I’m gonna miss you so much.” 

“I’ll miss you, too.” He hugged you tightly, and then you were swarmed by all of the younger kids, who held you all together in the customary send off hug as tears came through your shut eyes. 

“I’m going to miss all of you, you know.” 

“I’ll miss you, too,” you heard back, coming from about twenty different voices that you recognized individually. 

“I’ll miss you. Even that posh accent and the way that you eat and sit,” Julius admitted, and you cracked a smile at him. 

“I don’t have an accent, but, thank you.” You said, and you reached over and flicked his forehead. “You guys are all amazing, and don’t you ever not think that for a second. You deserve the best, and one day, you’ll get that for yourselves.” 

You looked at all of their faces, and saw them watching you. Despite how much some of the older ones didn’t like you sometimes simply because you were older, they listened to you. “You are the best children anyone could ever ask for, and if people don’t see that, they’re dumb.” 

“We don’t need parents to feel validated,” Sophie nodded. 

“Precisely!” You said, and then you cleared your throat when you saw some of them look at you strangely. “Exactly. Now, you guys remember that, okay?” They nodded their heads, and you pulled your back tighter. “Alright. I’ll miss you.” 

You watched them be ushered into their rooms, watching the backs of their heads disappear, even hearing a few sniffles. You clenched your jaw and cleared your throat, shaking your head clear of any worries or trace of sadness, and then you walked up to the door. 

No one would accompany you out there. No one was going to be able to tell you which way to go, not metaphorically or even directions wise. There wasn’t going to be anyone like Sophia, who had clued you in on your past so kindly before. No one was going to be beside you, and you were going to miss it, no matter how nagging everyone was. 

  You took in a deep breath as you felt the chill of the door on your hand, and you wrapped yourself in the blanket that came from your bag. You only regretted for a split second that Lucas had your coat, but then you remembered that he needed it much more than you did. And so, he had it. You opened the door to light snowfall, and immediately once you stepped onto the cold ground, a snowflake fell onto your cheek. 

Slowly, you walked up to the rusted gates that were probably once a brilliant silver, and then you looked back at the rundown place before touching the gate, forgetting all about rust. You took in a second deep breath and closed your eyes, because you knew that once you stepped foot outside of the gates of the orphanage, there was no going back. 

You were an orphan no longer once you stepped away. You were an adult. You were the caretaker, not the one to be cared for. 

You nodded your head to yourself and pushed the door to the gates open, hearing the same sound that you had always heard after breakfast when someone left, but it was much louder up close. You almost jumped at how easy it was to get open, and then you slipped through, shutting it after yourself quickly. You huffed out a breath and saw it fog up in the air, and then you felt tears burn in your eyes. 

You were leaving behind the family that you barely even realized that you had. And you would likely never see them again. And this was all because you wanted to find the family that had tossed you aside like yesterday’s newspaper, like you were someone else’s problem. 

But it wasn’t really to meet them, you knew. It was so that you could see what you had or hadn’t been missing. 

Your feet were moving before you even knew that they were. You looked back and couldn’t even see the orphanage anymore, and you had a strong urge to run in again and say that you regretted leaving, but you couldn’t. So you kept walking. 

§§§

You didn’t have a watch, but you knew that it had been hours since you started walking away from the orphanage. Your hands were getting a tingly feeling in them, and your pants were wet with snow. They weren’t nearly enough for you to be protected, and you really regretted not saving up for some real pants instead of a new sewing kit. 

You hadn’t passed a single road sign during the entire walk. You expected to see something, maybe even a landmark that the bitter woman would talk about, something that would spark a memory even, but you got nothing. You had absolutely no idea where you were, and you were starting to get scared. 

You were definitely in the woods, that was for sure. You were in so deep that turning back was the less intelligent option. You hadn’t heard another voice in hours, or even the sound of horses and carriages. Nothing. Where the hell were you? 

 Your foot caught a tree root that was hidden by a somewhat thick layer of snow, and you went down hard. You grunted when you hit the ground, and you immediately reached out for the ankle that started throbbing. You hissed when you touched it and then threw your head back, nearly starting to cry from being scared out of your mind and frustrated at the same time. 

“Why didn’t they give me a map?” You asked aloud, slamming a hand on the ground before bracing yourself to stand on the very tree that had got the better of you.

You only got three steps before falling over again, the pain in your ankle far too strong for you to go much further. You bit down a cry as you tilted your head up towards the sky, which was getting darker by the minute. 

You were going to die out there. After your first night alone. You were about to die. 

“Um, miss?” You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of another voice, scrambling up even though you felt the pain in your ankle intensify. “You shouldn’t stand on that.” 

When you finally turned around, you were met with a man on a gray horse, who looked just as confused as you. Even from the distance you were at, you could tell that he was handsome. His blue eyes contrasted nicely with his dark hair that was cut short with just the slightest hint of waviness. He tilted his head sideways at you, like he was trying to see something, and then the weirdest of noises escaped his lips, a strangled gasp that startled you even more. “Ale- who are you?”

You turned your head behind you, thinking that his slightly horrified question couldn’t have been directed towards you. “Do you see something?” 

“Who are you?” He repeated, his voice slightly choked yet as sharp as a blade. His horse trotted closer without him even speaking a command. He stopped a few paces in front of you, and you looked up at him directly for the first time and nearly cried. He was huge. And he looked like he could crush you.

  “I- wait, who are you?” If there was one thing the orphanage taught you, it was to not talk to men you didn’t know. It was a way to get hurt or murdered. Everyone knew that. Not even men on horses who could pass for rich knights could be trusted. 

It took a few moments of mutual staring for him to even think about saying anything. “I’m James,” he answered cautiously, like you were the one to be wary of. “And you are?” 

You kept your grimace to yourself. You had two choices; to be friendly with this man and hope that he gave you a bit of shelter for the night without anything in return, or to be rude and possibly save your life, or ruin it all the same. You were leaning towards the first choice. 

It took you a moment to clear the cobwebs of thought from your mind and come up with an answer. When you did, it seemed like he was hanging on edge for your response, like it would make a few things in his life miraculously make sense. “I’m Y/N.” 

 He gave you a look. It was long, curious, and doubting. You thought for a second that he was surely seeing through you, seeing a version of you that you weren’t aware of. He breathed in through his nose, looking you up and down. “How old are you?”

You frowned at the question automatically. “You know, it’s not polite to ask a woman her age.” 

 You could have sworn that his lips tilted upwards before he schooled his features. “Are you camping?” 

“I-”  were you to tell him that you were utterly helpless? Was that the smartest thing to tell a man so big and obviously strong? You wouldn’t stand a chance if he decided to be your worst nightmare, not at all. But something in you knew that he wasn’t anything like that. Something knew. “I’m kind of lost.” 

“Where are you trying to go?”

“I’m trying to find the village, where there’s an opening for a seamstress.” 

  His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “You’re a seamstress?” 

“I’m trying to be.”

“Have you learned?” He asked, and you looked towards your freezing feet. 

 You should have expected that question. If not from a stranger in the woods, than from a possible employer. You sighed. “No, I never learned. No one taught me.” 

“Then how do you plan on becoming a seamstress?” 

You looked up at him for a second, trying to keep your teeth from chattering as you decided to shed your bag and put it on the ground, opening it up to reveal some shirts and pants that you had made on your own. “I made these myself.” He made a noise. 

 “I thought you said you never learned?” 

“I didn’t,” you said softly, the warmth of the clothes feeling good in your hand. “I never did learn, I just did it one day. And it’s been what I do ever since.” 

 He was still giving you that look, like he was expecting something more, or like you were some type of ghost or hallucination. The staring match took a while, and you were starting to feel the numbness of your ankle wear off. “My friend and I are in need of someone who’s good with a needle.” 

 That wasn’t exactly what you wanted to hear, unless he and his friend owned a sewing shop. Judging by his appearance, it was unlikely that he did. “I should be finding town.” 

“The nearest town is about thirty leagues, and there are no openings for seamstresses—or  any job really—there.” He said. “I can take you to the nearest town, my pal is waiting there for me.” 

 You were thinking far too hard for such an easy question. Thirty leagues was too far for you to clear by yourself before nightfall, and if night fell on you, you were as good as dead. You tried to think about it, but you knew your answer. You were done if you didn’t get on that horse. “I… okay. I think I’ll have to take you up on that, James.” 

  “Do you need help getting on the horse?” He asked, and though you had never even been on a horse before, you shook your head. You weren’t going to let the man grab on your waist and hoist you up. You would fall ten times before that happened, because that was far more embarrassing. 

  “No, thanks.” You were scared. You had never seen a horse so close before, and they were much bigger than you expected. Horses were for the rich, and that was partly why you were riding with this man. If he was needing someone who could sew and had a horse, he would pay you well for something that you enjoyed. It seemed good, in theory. 

You took in a deep breath as you threw yourself up there, expecting fully to slip and land right on your butt, but you didn’t. And he didn’t help you, either. In a movement as fluid as water, you were on the horse, in the exact position that you were supposed to be in. You frowned at yourself, looking down at your legs in muted surprise. 

“I’m shocked you made it,” you heard him rumble, and you nodded. “Most people who ride for the first time can’t do that.” 

You added that to your memory bank, another clue to the screwed up mystery you were playing around with. You watched your sigh come out of your mouth, your breath coming out in smoke because of the cold. “Guess I’ve ridden before.”

*****

this isn’t what i usually write, but man, was this fun. i hope you guys liked this little part! come back if you want, and you’ll meet steve!! i hope you guys liked it, thank you so much for reading this far, y’all have my heart fr

#marvel fanfic #steve rogers fluff #knight!steve #knight!steve rogers #knight!bucky barnes #knight!sam wilson #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve fluff #royalty au

[bechloeislegit]

25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020

Day 7 - A Daughter for Christmas (Part 2)

Author's Prompt: Follow-up to my 2019 Pitchmas gift A Daughter for Christmas. Four years ago Beca Mitchell was surprised on Christmas day when her biological daughter found her. Beca and her wife, Chloe, welcomed her to their family. Four years later, Amanda Henderson (aka Manda Mitchell) is back to celebrate Christmas with the Mitchells and she brings a few more surprises.

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

Seven-year-old Sophie Mitchell stood in front of the large Bay window with her five-and-a-half-year-old sister Sarah. They were watching for their older sister, Amanda, who was coming to spend Christmas with them.

Beca Mitchell is Amanda's mother. Beca had given her up for adoption twenty-two years ago when Beca was only sixteen. Amanda found Beca four years ago and Beca, and her wife, Chloe, accepted Amanda into their family with open arms.

Amanda had a good life before finding Beca; she loved that the Mitchells were so welcoming. Amanda felt blessed because not only did she have her birth mother, but she got a second mother in Chloe and two sisters who absolutely adored her. The feeling was mutual.

"She's here!" Sophie cried out as a car pulled into the driveway.

Amanda and a young man got out of the car. The young man looked nervously up at the house. Amanda took his hand and smiled at him.

"Don't worry," Amanda told him. "They're going to love you almost as much as I do."

Beca and Chloe came out of the kitchen.

"Who's the guy?" Sophie asked, her brow furrowed.

"What guy?" Beca asked, rushing over to the window, Chloe close behind her.

"He's cute," Chloe said, looking over Beca's shoulder.

"Did she say anything to you about bringing someone with her?" Beca asked Chloe.

"Nope," Chloe said.

They watched as Amanda and the young man walked up to the house. There was a knock on the door.

"Manda's here," Sarah said, rushing to the door, followed by the rest of the Mitchells.

Sarah threw open the door and rushed Amanda, grabbing her around the waist in a hug.

"Manda!" Sarah squealed. "You're finally here."

"Hey, Sarah," Amanda said. "It's good to see you!"

"Let her go, Sarah," Chloe said with a laugh. "We all want a Manda hug, too."

"Sorry," Sarah said, letting Amanda go.

"Come in," Chloe said, ushering Amanda and her guest inside.

As soon as Amanda made it through the door, she was enveloped in a Mitchell family hug. The young man stood by watching Amanda with her family with a nervous smile on his face. Amanda pulled back and pulled the anxious young man forward.

"Family Mitchell," Amanda said. "I'd like to introduce you to my husband, Dylan Maxwell."

Beca and Chloe stood back, stunned. Amanda never mentioned having a boyfriend and now she's married?

"Husband?" Beca said. "Since when?"

"We made a quick stop in Vegas yesterday and got married," Amanda said.

"Does that mean we have a brother now?" Sarah asked.

"Sort of," Amanda said.

"How long have you two been together?" Beca asked.

"Six months."

"Six months?!"

"Beca, calm down," Chloe said, rubbing Beca's arm. "Welcome to the family, Dylan."

Chloe hugged Dylan.

"Thank you, Mrs. Mitchell," Dylan said, pulling out of the hug.

"Please call me Chloe."

"Thank you, Chloe," Dylan said, smiling at Chloe.

"I'm Sophie," Sophie said and hugged Dylan.

"I'm Sarah," Sarah said, also hugging Dylan.

"Nice to meet you both," Dylan said, glancing at Beca.

Beca just glared at him.

"Be nice," Chloe whispered to Beca.

"She's only known him for six months," Beca whispered back. "And now they're married. That's too soon."

"I love him," Amanda said, having heard Beca. "And he loves me. We know we belong together."

"Are you pregnant?" Beca asked.

Amanda gasped. "How did you-"

"So, you are pregnant," Beca stated, interrupting Amanda.

Amanda gulped and nodded. Dylan moved to put Amanda between him and Beca.

"That's wonderful news," Chloe cried, pulling Amanda into a hug.

"I'm only two months along," Amanda said, hugging Chloe. "I wanted to tell you on Christmas day. And, I was going to do it all cutesy and everything."

"I'm sorry Mama Mitchell spoiled the surprise," Chloe said, turning to her wife. "Becs, don't you have something to say to Amanda?"

Beca didn't say anything. She just pulled Amanda into a hug.

"I am really happy for you," Beca whispered.

Beca wiped at her eyes when she pulled back from the hug. Amanda smiled at her and said, "Thank you."

Beca looked at Dylan and said, "We need to talk."

~~ Day 7 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

Amand paced back and forth outside the kitchen where Beca had taken Dylan to talk.

"Relax, Amanda," Chloe said. "You know Beca is all bark and no bite."

"Yeah," Amanda said. "But that was before she found out I was pregnant."

"She's happy about that," Chloe said. "She wasn't faking that. Everything will be fine."

In the kitchen, Beca offered Dylan a seat at the kitchen island.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Beca asked. "We have beer, wine, tea. . ."

"I'll just have some water, please," Dylan said.

Beca gave him the water and sat across from him.

"I'm guessing Amanda told you about us," Beca said. "About her being adopted and finding me after her adoptive parents died?"

Dylan nodded.

"She's become a big part of my family," Beca said. "Sophie and Sarah adore their big sister."

"I can say with absolute certainty," Dylan said. "The feeling is mutual. She talks about them, about all of you, all the time. I feel like I already know you."

"I admit I was a bit shocked when she first showed up on my doorstep," Beca said. "I was worried about how Chloe was going to react. I shouldn't have, because Chloe accepted her without any hesitation. Amanda has taken up space in all of our hearts. None of us want to see her get hurt. Especially me. Understand?"

"Believe me, Mrs. Mitchell," Dylan said. "I love her with every fiber of my being. And truth be told, I would have asked her to marry me even if she wasn't pregnant."

"Good," Beca said. "Welcome to the family. Be prepared to see a lot of us, especially when the baby is born."

"Amanda's already told me she wants you and Chloe there when the baby comes," Dylan said. "I'm more than okay with that. I am looking forward to getting to know all of you. I don't have any sisters, so Sophie and Sarah will be a welcome change from all the boys in my family."

"How many brothers do you have?"

"Five," Dylan replied. "Two older and three younger. The two oldest, David and Jeremy have two kids each. All boys, too."

"Do you think Amanda will have a girl and break the cycle?"

"My mom does," Dylan said with a laugh. "I don't care what the sex is, I just want a healthy baby."

"Good answer," Beca said, smiling. "Let's sit here for a few more minutes. I want to make Amanda squirm a bit for not telling us about you before today."

"She was really nervous about telling you about the baby," Dylan said.

"I know I didn't show it at first," Beca said. "But I really am excited for you both. For the marriage and the baby."

"Thank you," Dylan said. "That means a lot to me. To us."

"And, before I forget," Beca said. "I want you to truly understand how much I mean it when I say, you hurt her and you'll have to answer to me. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," Dylan replied, taking a drink of his water to quench his suddenly dry mouth.

~~ Day 6 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

It was ten minutes later when Beca and Dylan walked out of the kitchen, looking serious. Amanda ran over to Dylan.

"How'd it go?" she asked.

Dylan looked at Beca and smiled. "I've received the Mama Mitchell seal of approval and have been officially welcomed into your family," Dylan said. "And we came to a mutual understanding. I won't hurt you and she won't hurt me."

"You're such a softie," Chloe told Beca, kissing her on the cheek.

"I'm not going to apologize for being soft for all my girls," Beca said. "What's for dinner? I'm starved."

"Ooo, can we order pizza from Donatelli's?" Amanda asked. "I've got a craving for their pineapple pizza."

"Yes!" Sarah and Sophie squeal. "Pizza! Pizza! Pizza!"

"Okay, okay," Beca yelled over her daughters. "We can order pizza."

~~ Day 6 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

The next day, Beca pulled Amanda aside and asked her what she could get Dylan for Christmas.

"Can you find him a job?" Amanda asked and laughed. "He graduated in May and hasn't found anything yet." Her smile dropped as she said, "He's making himself sick, worrying about how he's going to support me and the baby."

"I can help with that," Beca said. "You're still on my health insurance so you will have coverage for any costs associated with your pregnancy. What was Dylan's major?"

"Advertising and Public Relations," Amanda said. "He wants to get into the entertainment industry and be a PR rep."

"I think I can help with that, too," Beca said, smiling. "I'll make some calls and see what I can do. Okay?"

"Thank you," Amanda said, hugging Beca.

"Now, what can I get him for Christmas?"

Amanda laughed. "He needs some nice work clothes for when he does get a job."

"Do you know his sizes?"

"Yeah."

"Great! Let's go shopping for Dylan."

Chloe said she'd stay home with Dylan, so Beca and the girls could go shopping.

"I'm surprised you want to go out shopping on Christmas Eve," Chloe told Beca as they were getting ready to leave.

"I want to have something under the tree for Dylan," Beca said. "Did you need me to pick up anything while we're out?"

"I think I might need a few things for dinner tomorrow," Chloe said. "I'll text you a list."

"Okay," Beca said, leaning in for a kiss.

Chloe kissed Beca and then Beca and the girls left. Chloe looked at Dylan.

"Care to join me in the kitchen?" Chloe asked. "I need to check and see what I need for dinner tomorrow so I can send the list to Beca."

"Sure," Dylan said and followed Chloe into the kitchen.

~~ Day 6 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

Christmas morning was hectic with lots of laughing and squeals of excitement as everyone opened their gifts. The family was sitting down to a late breakfast when Beca's phone rang.

Beca checked the caller ID and stood from the table, saying, "It's work. I have to take this."

"Beca," Chloe said. "It's Christmas. Can't you talk to whoever it is tomorrow?"

Beca waved Chloe over to her; once Chloe was close Beca whispered, "It's about a job for Dylan."

"Oh," Chloe said. "Go ahead then."

"Where's mama going?" Sarah asked when Chloe sat back down at the table.

"Someone from work called her," Chloe said. "She had to take it."

"Is she going to work?" Sophie asked.

"No, sweetie," Chloe said. "Once the call is over she'll be staying."

"Good," Sophie said. "I want to try out my new bike."

"Me, too," Sarah said.

"I'm sure mama will take you both out after we eat," Chloe said.

"Can we go, too?" Amanda asked.

"Of course," Sarah said.

Sophie and Sarah finished eating and asked to be excused. Chloe told them they could and they rushed off to play with their new toys.

A few minutes later, Beca came back to the table smiling. She looked at Dylan and said, "I don't know how long you were planning to stay, but I need you to be here on the 29th for a job interview."

"What?" Dylan asked, surprised. "What job interview?"

"The one I just set up for you," Beca said. "It's for an Assistant Public Relations Representative. It's entry-level and will get your foot in the door and help you gain real-time experience to become an actual PR Rep. What do you say?"

"I say, which of my new suits should I wear?" Dylan responded with a smile.

Amanda jumped up and ran over to hug Beca. "Thank you, Mama Mitchell."

"You're welcome," Beca said, patting Amanda on her back. "Merry Christmas."

Amanda sat back down and she and Dylan started talking about the possibility of living in L.A. if he got the job.

Beca started eating and Chloe leaned over to her and whispered, "Told you; you're a total softie."

"What did you expect me to do?" Beca asked. "He's the father of our first grandchild."

Beca suddenly paled and dropped her fork, causing a loud clatter as it hit her plate. Amanda and Dylan's heads whipped around to look over at her.

"Beca," Chloe said, caressing Beca's arm. "Are you okay?"

"We're thirty-eight," Beca said in awe. "Chlo, we're thirty-eight and we're going to be grandparents. GRANDparents, Chloe!"

Amanda and Dylan laughed.

"Beca," Chloe said, smiling as she pulled Beca toward her to kiss her. "Thirty-eight is a great age to become grandparents. We're still young enough to keep up with them. And we'll look hot doing it."

"I love you," Beca said. "Merry Christmas, babe."

"Merry Christmas, grandma,” Chloe said.

#bechloe fanfiction #beca mitchell #chloe beale #Christmas 2020

[tintind]

One night in 2018

Esme wasn't used to feeling like a guest: although it was rare for her to have a party of her own, she was usually the hostess. Last Sunday, she met Sally who was the head of their school's parent Council at the store while they were both shopping for a week for the whole family. Her husband's birthday fell on Christmas day, and Sally made it a tradition for the whole city -- at least for a fairly large circle of her acquaintances, and every year they had a party. Mrs. Cullen couldn't refuse the invitation.

They were already a little settled in their new place, and Esme didn't like their habit of not getting close to people at all: their unsociability gave rise to a lot of suspicions.

So tonight they surprised the guests by showing up on the doorstep of the house where they were invited, with a box of sweets and flowers. Fortunately for them, they were a drop in the bucket of guests flooding the house, so after a while the Cullens stopped attracting attention. Sally made sure they had a drink in hand, knew where the bathroom was, and felt completely comfortable. They kept their distance from the crowd, holding hands, Carlisle whispering in Esme's ear, and she smiled as she looked at the people. In the end, her husband told her he was leaving her to her own, kissed her on the top of the head, and swam off somewhere in the direction of his friends from the hospital. Esme was left standing alone at the high kitchen table. After making her solemn rounds, the hostess returned to Mrs. Cullen.

“How do you like the party?”

“Everything's fine, thank you”. Esme smiled as she cheered up the glass of golden, sizzling liquid. Of course, she didn't try it.

“I'm glad you enjoy it. And I'm glad Peggy lost me a ten. We had a bet on whether you would come at all.”

“Happy to contribute to your well-being.”

“No offense, it's just that you're so rare in the city that sometimes you look like a cult.”

“I see,” Esme said. “Carlisle works hard, we try to devote all the time to each other and the children. It's great to know that someone else believes in our ability to socialize.”

Sally laughed, wrinkling her pretty nose.

“You’re welcome!”

They talked about family and everyday life, and Esme was lucky that Sally was happy to take the lead. This made it possible to avoid situations where Esme didn't know what to say to sound believable. The vampire was lost in her own thoughts, searching the crowd for Carlisle's blue sweater. Somehow, as if he sensed her concern, he turned to her and waved his hand. She held up hers. They exchanged smiles.

"So, Carlisle...” Sally said pointedly.

Esme nodded, still watching her husband. He returned to his conversation and openly laughed at some joke, and, throwing up his head, patted the other on the elbow.

"How did you manage to snatch such a handsome man? How long have you been married?” Sally was also staring at the young doctor.

"Fourteen years," Esme lied very confidently.

"It’s impossible!" Sally really didn't seem to believe it. “It turns out that you were-”

She wasn't good at arithmetic, and few people remembered the exact age of the Cullens.

"Not enough," Esme said. "We met when Carlisle was a sixteen-year-old child Prodigy and I was a slightly clueless eighteen-year-old schoolgirl.

"That sounds very intriguing," Sally said, and cast another glance in Carlisle's direction, as if to confirm his existence.

After a few moments of silence, Esme realized that Sally was waiting for a story. Well, it will be a story for her...

"We met in high school, went to biology class together in our senior year. He already knew that he would devote himself to medicine, and I just liked to draw our skeleton and stuffed animals in the closet at the end of the class. I think the skeleton's name was Heinrich. The teacher decorated it for Christmas instead of a Christmas tree, you know, hung it with a garland and put a cap on the skull.”

"Sixteen years! Unbelievable!” Sally exclaimed, not even trying to hide her gossip side. Then she caught herself, touching Esme's arm: "Sorry, go on."

Esme chuckled. People are curious. She changed the hand that held the glass.

"We sat next to each other for a semester, trying in vain not to talk, so as not to distract each other, and I was probably the first and only person he thought of inviting to the new year's dance. I agreed, and then I found myself kissing him at the prom in the darkest corner. We’ve finished school, I was thinking of taking a year off, he was looking for a College ready to take such a young student, and suddenly... You know how hasty and stupid things are with teenagers.

Esme noticed that Sally made an almost physical effort to keep the tactless question from escaping her mouth.

"I got pregnant after he had asked me to marry him and I had refused. Or rather, I didn't mind, but our parents wanted us to wait.

Esme set the champagne aside, knowing that Sally still had questions, and wanting to prolong the theatrical pause.

“He reacted strangely. I mean- Everyone knows that such stories don't end well. And his first words when he found out were, " If you want to keep him, I'll find a job to provide for us. If not, marry me anyway, so you can always change your mind." He was almost a child himself, but with him I thought I was ready. Maybe I was, I don't know. He said "we" and "us" in such a way that it was impossible to resist. I was head over heels in love and young, and my future didn't seem like a sacrifice. His father gave in to our persuasions, and by the end of my eighteen years, I was a happy wife and future mother...”

Mrs. Cullen sighed.

"I'm sorry if my question hurt you," Sally said quietly, realizing how far Esme's story had gone. "I didn't mean to.”

"You're interested in the end, aren't you?" she asked, deliberately calm.

"Sure, but if you’re-”

"I'll tell you.

I don't remember exactly, I think it was Tuesday. Carlisle went to night school, and I went to pick him up in dad's old car. The weather was terrible, you know, a typical Northern autumn evening. Dank and foggy. So I could barely drive. And then some idiot tried to pass me, and I tried to gave way in my turn and slid into a ditch. When I woke up in the hospital, he was there. He was there all the time I was under anesthesia after the operation. He kissed my forehead, stroked my hair, and cried. Such a child! When he told me what the doctors had to tell me, we cried together, and he held my head in his hands, because it was impossible to hug me, all in plaster and tubes. We lost our boy. I lost the possibility to have children. But, contrary to all the assumptions of others, we did not lose our family. Sometimes the loss breaks, but sometimes it binds. Our case was the second one. In the end, everything worked out the way it should: I graduated from College, Carlisle -- from medical school, and a few of years ago we started thinking about children again.

It might not be healthy, but I couldn't imagine us adopting a baby. It’s still hurt. Besides, it's not just babies who need love. There are so many children in the system who can't find a family because they are too old or because they don't want to be separated from siblings. Our first two, Jasper and Rosalie, are a little older than the baby Carlisle and I would have been. This comforts me.

Esme was so engrossed in her story that she didn't notice Sally fumbling in her pockets for a napkin to wipe away her unwanted tears.

“I wish everyone had such a strong family...”

~~~~~~~~

As the party drew to a close, Carlisle finally found a good moment to slip away through the garden with Esme.

They walked down the street, breathing in the winter chill. The sky cleared, and the transparent air made the brilliant stars brighter. After all these people's gatherings, it was so nice to be quiet for a while.

Carlisle suddenly chuckled: “Biology class?”

Esme snorted: “So everything else in the story suits you?”

"It sounds very touching and romantic, just my type," the doctor explained. He raised a pale brow skeptically: “But the biology class?”

Esme stopped and looked at her husband for a long, long time, as if annoyed  she had to explain everything to him:

"They’ve stolen our island, Carlisle.”

The doctor laughed loudly:

"So this is the revenge.”

#accidental esmelisle sketch #twilight #carlesme #au? #carlisle cullen #esme cullen #longread