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noivoom · 2 years ago

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Okay, after several days of brainstorming and debating with myself, I have finally decided to emerge from The Lurking Pit and share this little (“little”) thing! This AU came about from my love of dysfunctional family tropes as well as my desire for everyone to live (honestly I mostly just wanted to daydream fanfic ideas without having to navigate canon’s minefield of problems, began wondering what an “ideal” situation would look like, and this spawned out of it)

The point of this was to, again, create an “ideal” situation for the gang, with potential for all kinds of Shenanigans™ and Drama™ alike while still keeping everyone as close to their canon selves as possible, as a bit of relief from all the angst :’) (I say “ideal situation,” but that doesn’t mean they haven’t still got issues galore. *cough*SUNNEEDSTHERAPY*cough*) (If, on the off chance anyone is inspired by this and/or wants to make something with this setting, please let me know! I’d LOVE to see it! :D)

I call it- One big UnHappy Family!

TL;DR Sun, Moon, Lunar, Earth, KC, Bloodmoon, and Solar Flare are all alive and well and somehow ended up as the world’s most Complicated™ family. Chaos ensues.

As for how they wound up that way? WELL. I’m gonna start rambling now, please bear with me

It starts with Sun shooting Bloodmoon. Sun didn’t fully know if he really wanted to kill Bloodmoon, was fighting internally to come to a decision one way or another and therefor wasn’t actually aiming when a moment of reflex kicked in, and the barrel went off. And he misses. Well... mostly. Bloodmoon takes a decent amount of the shot, and though it doesn’t kill them, they’re left severely damaged. It’s quite a confronting sight for Sun- while in canon there was nothing left of BM for Sun to really understand the weight of what he just did (at first, anyway), here he’s immediately confronted with another animatronic panicking and in pain as their nanomachines desperately try to rebuild them :’) Nothing like a bit of visual trauma to hit home that your actions have consequences, amirite? Moon investigates the barrel shot and sudden screaming (from both BM and Sun) to find... this. He’d probably have several things in mind to say to Sun about shooting BM, but he’d hold off for now. And thus begins one hell of a domino effect.

While fixing Bloodmoon, it becomes apparent the barrel shot corrupted some of their code. Nothing particularly bad, but oddly enough, it seems to have somehow also curbed their bloodlust. The lack of cravings leave the twins disoriented and kinda lost, but it’s also... almost a relief. Lunar takes advantage of this, introducing them to new things to occupy their time, and wow, who knew they could find entertainment in something other than homicide and appalling crimes against humanity? They’re still Bloodmoon, of course, they still have to be held back from killing people, but that’s not all they wanna do anymore. And food! Now that their bloodlust is out of the way food tastes so much better, there’s so many different flavours and textures and they gotta try everything and whoops, they’ve accidentally found themselves on the world’s weirdest redemption arc. (So, uh, thanks for shooting them after all, Sun...? I guess?)

Meanwhile KC, concerned over Bloodmoon’s wellbeing, convinces Moon to let him watch over them during their recovery. As the twins begin discovering new things that satisfy themselves, KC, trying to be Dad™, joins them. He’s never actually participated in anything that doesn’t involve murder, and much of these activities are uninteresting to him, but something about doing it with his sons... it actually... satisfies something in him, too. (None of them are particularly good at finding non-violent hobbies, mind you, but Lunar, Sun and Moon help out. Mostly to keep them occupied. They have no idea what’s going on, but they much prefer whatever the hell this is to evil plotting.) Eventually Moon relaxes a little when he realises KC intends to stay true to their deal, and occasionally switches off while KC’s out rather than watching him like a hawk. This leads to KC exploring on his own and running into Glamrock Freddy. He panics a little and pretends to be Moon. A parallel of their canon talk happens and oh would you look at that, KC’s accidentally Dad-ed his way into a redemption arc of his own! (No dead Bloodmoon means Sun doesn’t McFreaking Lose It, which means Lunar doesn’t move out and get killed, and also means the magic circle isn’t destroyed, which means Moon doesn’t get stuck in his head and get his memories wiped! :D Huzzah!) (Sun is still in desperate need of therapy though)

Eclipse is, of course, rather indignant at this turn of events. He never like the Blood Twins or KC, but seriously? Just like that?! It’s almost insulting. Not to mention it screws up his plan (not that he’d had a chance to flesh out said plan yet anyway). He continues regardless, taking over Solar Flare’s body to... do something. I’ll admit, I haven’t exactly figured out what his new course of action would be. Regardless, he ends up making his own body and ditches Solar Flare without a second thought. Solar Flare, alone and deeply disturbed over having their body hijacked so easily, is at a loss for what to do when they stumble upon Earth! Or more accurately, she stumbles upon them. She comforts them and they go with her to the Daycare. (I also don’t know if Earth would have already joined the DCA crew or if she just shows up fashionably late with Starbucks Solar Flare. Both are funny; either she shows up as a stranger with another stranger like “yes hello I’m your new sister, also I decided to bring this vaguely traumatised stranger along with me, hope you don’t mind :)” or she goes for a walk and comes back with this stranger like “can we keep them? *puppy eyes*”) Thus, Solar Flare joins the family!

Honestly... despite everyone else getting redeemed/joining the family, I think it’s funniest if Eclipse stays a bad guy. Everyone else is learning about themselves and growing as individuals/family, meanwhile Eclipse is over there being a stubborn, petty, lonely bastard and refusing to acknowledge that the reason he is miserable everywhere he goes is because every time he goes somewhere, he is there. Also he creates the conflict needed for further plot to happen. Also also I don’t think he’d take the option of redemption if it was handed to him on a silver platter accompanied by a ten-page essay on why it’s the best choice for everyone, especially him. (But who knows! I guess it is possible, it would just be a lot of work. He’d have to really want to be better and put the work in. Even then, I imagine he’d probably end up going his own way. It’d be for the best after all the trauma he’s inflicted.)

The FUNNIEST pat of all of this is when Glamrock Freddy visits the Daycare to talk to Sun and Moon about something only to see Sun yelling and chasing Bloodmoon, who’s knocking over and destroying EVERYTHING, Lunar running after them playing the Benny Hill theme, Solar Flare robotically restacking the barrels one pile at a time (seemingly oblivious to the fact that Bloodmoon knocks them over again as soon as they turn their back, creating an endless cycle they don’t seem to question), Earth calling out for everyone to please not hurt themselves, and Moon just... sitting there, rubbing his temples. “... Hey Freddy,” Moon says, not looking up. “... What the heck is going on?” “Family bonding.” “Family- where the heck did all these people even come from?!” “It’s a long story.”

If you’ve read all this, thank you so much for hearing me out <3 I’ll admit, most of my thought processes behind this boil down to “I just think it’s neat” and “because I think it’s funny”. This is supposed to be just for fun, after all. Please tell me what you think! There’s SO MUCH more to this, from evolving family dynamics to specific character development and even Monty, this post is all just the basic set-up of how the gang got to where they are. I have SO MANY more thoughts about this setting, it’s a disaster and a half and I’d love to discuss it please give me an excuse to ramble more

#scuttles out of the aether to drop this and bolts #tsams #The Sun And Moon Show #sorry about the length #I just needed to ramble #tsams au #One Big UnHappy Family #I love them so much #screw it no more editing just POST

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igiveanf · 1 year ago

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Keep Trying

My oldest son was cutting some paper when the scissors slipped and split the fabric on our couch wide open.

This wasn't the first time, and I hate to say it, but it probably won't be the last either. Accidents happen, and honestly with three boys, they tend to happen a little more frequently than I would prefer. (It's the reason Graham and I don't own expensive furniture yet).

Right away I got the needle and thread out to fix the cushion the best that I could. I'm not a sewer but I can navigate the basics fairly well, and I knew I needed to get it done quickly.

I've parented three boys long enough to know that if I didn't sew it up fast, one of my boys was bound to pull on it and make it even worse. If left for too long, I wouls soon be in need of a new couch.

The only needle I could find was so tiny it made threading very difficult. I tried and tried and tried, but still I couldn't get it threaded. My husband came in the room and tried as well but he couldn't get it either.

My youngest son watched as I tried again and again and again and still didn't have success. He wanted to help too so he suggested I dip the thread in water, which I did a number of times, but still it didn't work.

I thought about giving up. My middle son even suggested it out loud. The temptation to quit came just as I could feel the frustration building within me but for some reason, the longer I failed at threading that needle, the more motivated I became to do it.

Rather than open the door to frustration and let it convince me to quit, I decided to preservere. I made the choice, in that moment of temptation, that I would persist for however long it took me, no matter what. I was determined to thread that needle.

We all know the expression; 'if at first you don't succeed then try, try again' but in this case the tries needed to be multiplied by at least ten. Truthfully, it felt as if I had tried a hundred times.

It took me thirty minutes to get that thread through the needle but I finally did it, and when I did, the sense of accomplishment I felt was so much bigger than it would have ever been, had I gotten it in on only the first or second attempt.

The whole family cheered and as I sewed that tare, I couldn't help but see how much we all love to celebrate success. It's in our nature to be happy for others, especially when weve witnessed them fail over and over agin.

The longer someone takes to succeed, the more we cheer for them and the more we want to celebrate with them when they do. Persistence is inspirational. Watching it teaches us that not giving up is so important.

The whole experience got me thinking; most people don't actually achieve their goal after the first or second try. If you research some of the most amazing inventions, you'll discover that many of the greats behind them, had a perseverance beyond human understanding. They tried thousands of times before they ever came close to achieving their goal, and their secret to success was that they never gave up trying.

I wonder how many times someone told Thomas Edison to throw in the towel. I wonder how many times he thought about quitting himself. I'm certain that at some point the temptation to quit was big enough to in the least, entertain the thought.

January is on the horizon. With that comes a new year, and many times, new goals. Among those are weight loss goals, health goals, financial goals and so on. The average new years resolution lasts only seventeen days.

To ensure your success, it's important to remember that whatever you set out to achieve, you may have to try more than once in order to achieve it. You may even have to keep trying after nine failed attempts.

It doesn't make you less than if it takes multiple tries, it makes you human. We all have seasons where it feels like nothing we try is working but if we keep trying, we're bound to win.

In order to achieve your next goal, what you'll need most are perseverance and the wisdom to never stop trying, even when the temptation to quit beacons; and it absolutely will. When it does, know this; that even if you don't get to your goal after the first or second or tenth attempt, so long as you keep trying, you will get there.

And guess what? The failed attempts are never truly fails because rather than fail, you'll learn; you'll simply learn how not to do it and then you'll learn how to do it.

If you can keep your chin up, keep getting back up and have relentless perseverance and determination, you absolutely will get there, and the celebration will be so much bigger because it took you a few more tries.

My hope for you is that you won't give up trying. My hope is that if at first or second or tenth, you don't succeed, you'll keep trying until you do because if so, you absolutely will.

So, as you set out to embrace a new year and a new goal remember this; success is only a guarantee, if stopping is not an option.

Decide not to stop, even if the needle you're holding seems impossible to thread, because I promise you this; you will get there if you just keep trying, that's the only magic pill that works.

KEEP TRYING!

You got this.

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juryofno · 1 year ago

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hello, I'm back to add something to this. something awful. that I'm probably gonna regret.

technically, the romance plotline could kind of still be done. if it's acknowledged for what it is.

(cw for incest, obviously. stay with me here.)

so ein knows that aphmau is his sister, right? that was the whole reason he came to phoenix drop high, right? to meet her, and find the ultima, and have her turned into a werewolf so zack would accept her and they could really be siblings.

except, aphmau doesn't know this. he obviously can't tell her right off, the whole point is to get to know her first and gain her trust, and THEN bring her into the family. so from her perspective, he's this punk looking werewolf guy who's kind of intense but honestly really nice, a rule breaker who's genuinely really sweet to her, her in particular, and doesn't seem to be trying to flirt with her in any obvious, seedy way. he just seems to really want to be around her, to get to know her as a person. and he's her age, so there isn't any weird power dynamic like she has with, uh, let's see, every other love interest in pdh.

why the hell wouldn't she like him?

only, for some reason, when he realises she's interested in him, ein seems... horrified. disgusted, even. he was so sweet on her, she thought he must like her too, but when she tries to make a move he recoils so intensely. he seems viscerally disturbed by the idea that she could like him, and that's really hurtful. it makes her wonder what he actually thought of her all this time. what she was to him.

(she's my sister she's my sister she's my sister how could she do that how could she want that from me she's my sister. ein was sure, so sure, from the way they clicked so easily, that somewhere deep down she instincually knew, could feel that he was her brother. but apparently not. it's wrong, its vile, she's sick, these humans made her sick because they wouldn't tell her what she was. he has to fix it. he has to fix her. there's no way he can tell her now, not like this, not when this is what she thinks of him. no, he has to keep his distance until he can figure out how to make this right. then they can be a family, he's sure of it. he just needs to figure it out.)

after that he distances himself from her. he sets his sights instead on becoming alpha: charming the people he needs to and crushing the rest of them under his heel. aphmau gets it now: it's because she's human. the idea of a human wanting to be with him is disgusting to him, so now he's trying to oust her. she won't have it.

(the ultima, that's what his target needs to be. it's the only way to make this right. he doesn't go to this school anymore, but ein knows he can lure him out, and that aphmau and his pack are the key. he went from ousted omega to alpha; that kind of change takes strong bonds. the kind of bonds that can't be broken by just graduating. ein knows from everything he did at this school that he's impulsive, and fiercely protective, sometimes to the detriment of the very people he's protecting. threaten his pack, and aaron lycan will come running, consequences be damned. ein is sure of it.)

and years later, when ein has aphmau locked in a cave, telling her about how soon they'll be the perfect family, and she realises what everything he did in high school actually meant, she almost throws up. disgusted at him, and everything he has done and is doing to her, but also at herself.

hot take but in mys using the ein/aphmau half sibling plot line as like... an actual plotline would have been way more interesting than the bullshit weird romance that jesson actually did. ein having this bizarre obsession with aphmau for seemingly no reason, until we find out that she's his sister, and he knew that. he wanted to make her like him, a werewolf, so that she could be finally be a true part of their family. she could finally face her father.

the reveal probably would've absolutely broken aphmau because it's super fucked, and it would've been SO INTERESTING compared to whatever dumbass shit we got. really ironic that everyone in emerald secret got brainwashed into thinking ein was their brother EXCEPT FOR THE ONE PERSON WHO WAS HIS ACTUAL SIBLING. why didn't they do this. why did we have an incest plot. why is jesson.

#anyways jessica pay me to rewrite your show #txt.#aphblr #aphverse #mystreet #pdh #cal is talking #aphmau #ein aphmau #rebump #cw incest

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mercy-burning · 3 years ago

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Honeybee

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: While attending Seraphina's wedding, Y/N discovers that her crush on her best friend’s older brother hasn’t gone away after all these years. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, alcohol consumption, fingering, penetrative/protected sex Word Count: 5.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: I know I promised a oneshot over the weekend, but I’m a messy, inconsistent bitch, so you get it a day late 😅🥰

———

Looking back, I was starting to wonder if Seraphina only got engaged and asked me to be her maid of honor just to witness my slow descent into a heaping puddle of lovesick mush.

Truly, it was pathetic.

Yeah, yeah, she was getting married because she loved her fiancé and whatever, obviously, but she was also using it as an excuse to try and get me to admit my feelings for her older brother. Feelings, I might add, that only surfaced when I was a middle schooler and went away once he went off to college.

Sure, I'd thought about him on occasion when he was inevitably brought up around Sera's house throughout the years, but that was it. I'd hardly say I was hard-core in love with him. And I was totally prepared to see him for the first time since our high school graduation.

At least, I thought I was.

And Seraphina—the little shit—knew it, too. The smirk on her face the moment we were all in the same room for the first time in ten years made me want to run and hide more than her brother's figure, right in front of me and hotter than ever.

I was mad. Not at Sera as much, because really there was nothing she could do about the fact that he was her brother, but I was mad at myself. Because how in the hell had it stood to reason that a man I actively didn't think about for a whole decade had this much of an effect on me after all this time?

Honestly? I blame the FBI.

If he'd done literally anything else with his life I probably could have made it. Well, not by much if we're being honest, but come on...

Where he'd been a bit nerdy and reserved as I knew him, the man in front of me had clearly changed. Not just physically, though that was also a pleasant surprise. He looked like he'd been through some shit... And he carried himself taller. There was a new air of confidence that perched on his shoulder and helped him along as he talked with old friends and family members at his sister's rehearsal dinner.

Spencer Reid was older and more experienced this time around, and somehow even more goddamn delicious...

I was a total wreck. And it was about to get a whole lot worse.

He was coming this way. Right for me. He'd noticed me staring at him all night, because I couldn't keep my shit together, and now I was absolutely doomed.

Guess it was a good thing I'd practically grown up with him and knew how to act outwardly.

Still, the moment he was up close and flashing me that little smile of his, I felt the pit of my stomach scream out loud, sending shockwaves through my bloodstream.

"Hey, Honeybee. It's been a while."

Fuck. That fucking nickname...

"Spencer... It has."

When we hugged briefly, I tried as hard as I could not to inhale his scent, knowing that not only was that pathetic and embarrassing, but also I'd never stop smelling it otherwise. I did take note, though, of how strong he was now. He wasn't a bodybuilder of any kind, but he was certainly less bony and more defined.

I had to hold back a whine as I felt him let go of me, because I didn't want to leave his warm embrace but also because I didn't think I could stand to look at his face anymore without losing any and all semblance of my cool.

Still, I let him release me, and even then he didn't go far. We only stood inches apart, and my whole body was practically numb at the proximity. It also didn't help that I had to tilt my head up to see his face— It made me feel extremely submissive, and I could already feel myself starting to shrink.

Whether he was amused at that or just at me in general, the feeling I got was the same.

"Sera tells me you've been busy..." He paused, seemingly searching for the right word, though I could tell he already had it on the tip of his tongue. "Modeling?"

I closed my eyes with a sigh. "It was one job for some obscure European magazine, no one in the country's probably ever heard of it... It's not that big of a deal."

Spencer huffed a laugh. "You sound embarrassed..."

How was I supposed to respond to that? If I lied and told him I wasn't embarrassed, he'd figure it out, and if I told him the truth? I'd still be screwed. Honestly, my best bet was changing the subject.

Though, maybe it wasn't— When I asked him about his travels for work, he ignored it and responded with, "Ah, so you are embarrassed."

"N— I am not!"

"You changed the subject so fast I barely had time to blink... There's nothing to be ashamed of, Honeybee, I don't know why you'd—"

"Look, dude, I'm not ashamed, and I'm certainly not changing the subject. We were on the subject of jobs. So there."

I was aware of how childish I sounded, but I stood my ground nonetheless. And thankfully Spencer seemed to let it go, though not without amplifying that amused sparkle in his eye.

"Okay... Well, I've got some more people to see, but, uh... I'll see you around. Maybe you can show me some of your work."

He didn't even give me time to protest. Though if he had, I was sure I wouldn't have been able to get any words out what with that goddamned face he had, twisted and sculpted into all these beautiful ways that were designed specifically to make me a blubbering hot mess.

I could only gather the courage to nod in response, though he'd turned his back and walked away by the time I got it out.

———

All things considered, I'd managed to avoid him for the majority of the wedding festivities. I focused all my energy on being happy to see my best friend get married, and likewise it seemed that Spencer was inclined to do the same.

He walked his sister down the aisle, and seeing them both so happy truly made my heart sing. To think I'd known them since we were all kids more or less, and now they were both successful, beautiful human beings... It warmed me to my core, and despite the other flames that stung my insides at seeing Spencer in his tux, thing were going swimmingly.

That being said, we were just about two hours into the reception, and there was absolutely nothing stopping me from begging Seraphina to put me out of my misery.

Except maybe pints upon pints of alcohol.

In hindsight, that may not have been a good idea, though. Because as much as the open bar had it benefits, it also hated me. It was mostly my fault, because I was stupid enough to forget that I get frisky when I'm drunk, but that didn't stop me from blaming the bartender for continuing to serve me.

I wasn't quite at the point of all-out inebriation, but I was definitely toeing the line between tipsy flirting and total disaster.

And when Spencer came over to ask me to dance, I knew I was doomed.

I didn't find myself caring about what he was saying, only the fact that he was there, in front of me, putting his hands on me and breathing in the same air that I was putting out. My entire body buzzed, and while I would have panicked otherwise, my tipsy brain welcomed the tingle and made me a bit bolder.

"You enjoying yourself tonight?" he asked, like he couldn't already tell that I was having the time of my life.

"No way. You suck at dancing." The joke rolled off my tongue with ease, a product of years spent teasing him for countless things.

And just like all those times before, he rolled his eyes and then immediately flashed an affectionate smile all the same.

I should have stopped there, maybe tried to do something a bit more romantic like teach him how to dance... Placing his hands and fixing his posture, taking the time to gracefully have an excuse for exploring his body with my hands...

But romance took a backseat when I pressed myself in even closer to him and hummed just under his jawline. "Mmm, but I bet you're good at other things..."

I felt his hands grip my waist just a little tighter, and his throat visibly twitched. "How much have you had to drink, Honeybee?"

"Spencer," I whined, pressing my face into his neck. "Don't tell me you're turning me down, please..."

I could tell by the way he was touching me, his hands wavering and undecided, and the way his heartbeat thrummed loudly and quickly against my own that he wanted nothing more than to entertain my desires.

The thought made me quiver and press further into him. I kissed his jawline tenderly, silently begging him to whisk me away and finally make me his, but it broke my heart a little to feel him peel away from me.

When he looked into my eyes though, I swore the gleam in his own is what put me back together. It could have been the liquor swimming around in my body that made me feel lightheaded, but when Spencer lifted my chin with his fingers and looked me over, I knew that wasn't it. It was wholeheartedly, without a doubt, him.

"Tell you what... You get sobered up by the end of the night, and maybe I'll come find you."

I wanted to nod, but his gentle grip on my chin held me steady—At least until he glided his fingertips down my throat and over my shoulder. Then I downright slumped forward with a whine and a weak nod that seemed to make him smile.

"Thank you for the dance," he said earnestly, leaning forward to press the lightest of kisses to my temple.

Just like that he was gone, and I wanted him back almost immediately.

———

And so the night dragged on, and the longer I sobered up the more it dawned on me what the fuck just happened— What the fuck was going to happen, too, if I played my cards right.

It didn't help that I could practically feel Spencer's eyes on me the whole time. Probably to make sure I really wasn't drinking anymore, a fact that only made this feel more real.

On top of it all, I was starting to lose count of the amount of men here who were trying to buy me drinks. Even if the one man I really wanted tonight hadn't given me a deal, I still wouldn't have accepted them, if only for the pathetic fact that I would have been trying to catch his attention instead.

So much for trying to convince myself I wasn't in love with him...

Was that really what it was? It had to be, right?

Either way, I was determined to find out, and that meant declining every flirtatious offer to drink and dance.

Unfortunately, Seraphina seemed to notice, even on the one day in her entire life she shouldn't have been thinking about anyone but herself. "You're not having fun," she pouted, plopping down next to me and handing me a shot. "Have fun."

I laughed and set the tiny glass down on the table. "I am having fun, I'm just... tired. And being hungover tomorrow does not sound fun."

"Mmm," she responded, visibly suspicious.

I didn't really know what to say to her to convince her not to be though, so I grabbed her hand and smiled. "You're having fun though, right? 'Cause I will not hesitate to kick someone's ass if you're not."

With a bellowing laugh mildly tainted with the smell of champagne, Seraphina squeezed my hand and leaned in close. "I'm having the best time. I couldn't be happier."

"Well, good. You deserve it."

After a small moment of silent shared smiles, my best friend glanced over elsewhere and then back to me with that look in her eye that kind of scared me.

And her words were even scarier... "So, you talk to Spencer at all tonight?"

"Uh— Yeah... Briefly."

"Mhmm... Y'know, I saw you two dancing together earlier. You seemed reeeally close..."

There I was, getting defensive in front of a Reid sibling for the second time that night. And just like before, I was awful at being subtle. "Sera, stop it! It was just a dance..."

"Bullshit! He had his hands all over you, and he had that gross-ass, dreamy-ass look in his eye! He so wants to sleep with you!"

"Sera!" I gently shoved her and tried not to smile at the goofy smile she had plastered on her face.

"Am I wrong?"

"I... I don't..."

"Ha! I'm not wrong!"

The defeated look in my eye did nothing to disconfirm her story.

"So, what's stopping you from letting him?"

I went wide-eyed. "Se—You... You seriously would... You're okay with this? It doesn't... gross you out?"

There were a lot of things I could have seen Seraphina do in that moment, but pinching and yelling at me were not any of them. "Y/N! You idiot! I've been trying to get you two together for years! If I knew all it took was me getting married, I would have accepted Theo Decker's proposal..."

"Wa— In fifth grade? Sera, that wasn't—"

"I know, but you get what I mean! You two are so painfully attracted to each other, it physically hurts me. It's actually disgusting, but if it means there's a chance that you might get to be my sister? I say go for it."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You... You really mean that?"

"What, you think I'd joke about that?"

Everything that she conveyed to me within the look in her eyes, her words, and the squeezing of her hand over mine told me she was sincere.

"I love you, you know," I told her just as sincerely.

Her smile was as radiant as ever, but the teasing tone in her voice was enough to make me scowl again. "Right back at'cha, Honeybee. Just do me a favor and don't tell me any details. I don't wanna know."

I stuck my tongue out at her, followed by a short shove. "Oh, and as soon as you get back from your honeymoon? I'm kicking your ass for telling him about that nude shoot I did for that magazine..."

She only grinned. "Why? I think I did you a favor..."

I rolled my eyes at her, but in the end, I guess she was right.

———

I shouldn't have been pacing. Really, it was pretty fucking embarrassing the way I walked in circles around my hotel room, waiting for a knock at the door or a text message on my phone, or something to let me know that Spencer had really meant what he said and was on his way to come find me.

I didn't have a single drink after we danced, and I swear to God, if he made me go through this entire night all nervous without the liquor to calm me down, for nothing? I was going to kill him tomorrow.

Later today... Whatever.

The point? I was well and truly ready to feel him taking up my personal space, and I was going to feel like a real idiot if I waited around and prepped and everything, only for him not to show. The funny thing was, it was almost two in the morning, and I would have stayed up until the sun rose for him.

Thank God he had the decency to save me the trouble.

A short two-rap knock on the door made me jump, but I ran at it full-speed, flinging the large wooden panel open and letting its momentum blow cool wind over my body. And I needed it, too.

Because standing right in front of me was Spencer Reid in all his semi-exhausted glory. His outfit was loosened, buttons undone and bowtie untied, hanging limp around his neck. His hair sat wild atop his head and a thin layer of sweat coated his skin. Maybe that last part sounded gross, but looking at him? It was anything but.

Especially when he flashed me that damned smirk. "Someone's eager..."

I tried not to sound as dumbfounded by his presence as I felt. "Well, you made me a good offer I couldn't refuse. Excuse me for being excited."

"And here I thought all this time you hated me, Honeybee..."

"That would be easier, wouldn't it?"

His grin transformed into a full-on beaming smile then, and it only made my skin feel warmer and my heart beat faster. I returned his smile with my own, so genuinely happy to see him again after all this time, and with the brightest show of happiness I'd ever seen.

Turns out, smiling like a lovesick idiot was all I was capable of.

"Are you... gonna let me in?"

The low suggestive tone in his voice had me springing into action, stepping back and allowing him the space to come in. And though he had plenty of room, Spencer still decided to brush his body over mine as he passed. His eyes bore into my own as he gently kicked the door shut and enveloped us in a dimness that came from cheap hotel lighting.

Still, I was unable to speak, and hardly able to even breathe, with each passing second.

And then, his hands were on my waist, pulling me to him with a softness that matched the whisper in his throat as he said, "C'mere..." Looking up at him then, his fingers burning holes through the thin fabric of my dress while he looked back down me, eyes swimming in tender desire... It almost didn't even feel real.

And it certainly didn't feel real when he leaned in, one of his hands coming up to touch my face while the other pressed me firmly against him.

The moment his lips touched mine, I was gone. I positively melted into him, so much so that it felt like I was just becoming a part of him entirely, losing myself in the moment and unwilling to let it go.

Even when he sighed against my lips and parted his own to kiss me deeper, I just followed suit and let him take the lead. We moved together as one, fluidly and with as much eagerness was possible. I'd wanted to get a taste of him for so long, and he obviously felt the same way, what with the thorough and precise exploring his tongue did with my own. It shot warmth throughout my whole being, and my legs threatened to buckle underneath me from how weak they felt.

Spencer seemed to understand what was happening to me, because as soon as I'd thought it, he was just as quick to literally sweep me off my feet, scooping me up bridal style and carrying me over to the large bed in the middle of the room.

"I know we're at a wedding and all, but geez," I laughed, watching as he laid me down gently and crawled over my body. "A little much?"

He only rolled his eyes. "Well, excuse me for trying to be romantic..."

"Mmm, I think you're just being an overachiever. As per usual."

That remark earned me a pinning of my wrists above my head, and the fire that erupted in my very core at my current position only cemented that this was very real.

Spencer grinned, his hips coming down to roll over mine teasingly. He spoke nice and slowly, his voice slicing through my soul like smooth butter. "Oh, Honeybee, I'll show you an overachiever..."

Once again I was rendered speechless. Not like I expected to be talking his ear off or anything, but words genuinely escaped me.

Luckily, Spencer didn't seem to mind. In fact, he knew exactly what to do next, and it made me even hungrier for him than ever before.

He captured my lips in another dizzying kiss, his hands still flexing over my wrists to keep them steady. I moaned softly and writhed against him, and though I would have liked to say that it was a conscious choice to coax him to give me more, really it was just me being unable to handle the fact that this was actually happening.

Actually, if not for the overwhelming and familiar scent of him, I would have thought I was only imagining it.

But alas, here he was in all his floral peppermint glory, grinding his hips down into mine and kissing me like I'd never been kissed before, driving me mad with each adept movement.

Thankfully he seemed to get as lost in the moment as I was, because he loosened my wrists in his grip, and I broke free, flying my hands in between us and down to his belt.

His lips pulled away from mine with a soft smack, a smile forming smugly upon them. "Have you no patience?"

As my fingers fumbled with the metal and leather, I pressed my nose to his and quickly pecked his mouth. "I thought we already established that I have no patience the moment I opened the door..."

"Fair... But still..."

Spencer grabbed my hands again, moving them to my sides and then hiking my dress up slowly. His skin was hot against my own, and it took everything I had not to break down begging for him.

And then he spoke again, his lips barely grazing mine as he did. "Teasing you is so much fun..."

I couldn't really explain what sound escaped me then, but it reminded me of a disgruntled animal, erupting from my throat and getting muffled the moment I took my hands and brought his face to mine. I kissed him fervently as his hands matched the intense nature of my affections— With every soft groan I gave him, he returned it with an inch higher up my leg, until eventually he was toying with the hem of my underwear.

Unable to take it anymore, I gave in and mumbled the most desperate plea I could think of. (Like I had to think that hard...)

"Spencer, please..."

I half expected him to tease me again, but this time I felt him tremble over my body. His fingers slipped under the satin of my underwear and he sighed into my mouth. "God, how could I ever say no to you..."

No sooner had the words left his mouth did he spread me apart with his fingertips, getting a feel for me and a broken sigh falling from his tongue and onto my own. I captured it and kissed him with as much precision as I could while under the influence of his hands working wonders.

Truly, his hands hand a magic of their own that should have been considered as an eighth Wonder of the World. They flexed in all the right places, splitting me open and caressing the most sensitive parts of me, simultaneously breaking me apart and putting me back together...

God, and those was only his hands...

The thought of what else he had waiting for me made me cry out into his mouth, though I'm sure it also had to do with the fact that his fingers were curling expertly inside me and summoning an orgasm that I knew would satisfy us both.

I almost cried out again when his lips left mine, but then they travelled to my neck and paid it the most glorious attention. The alternation of his fingers and his tongue on different spots of my body had me in shambles, and it took no longer than a few seconds to snap.

"Fuck, that's my girl," Spencer grumbled into my neck, helping me through my orgasm. "That's it, honey..."

What I wouldn't have given to hear him talk to me like that until the end of time... His words, their tone and praise seeping into my skin and bringing my soul to life... Coupled with his soft hands and his even softer breath fanning over my neck, I was just about ready to ask him to keep talking to me, to say my name and never stop.

He pulled away though, removing his hand from my lower half and bringing it up to his mouth, and I had the feeling my request wouldn't be a problem.

Spencer's eyes rolled back and his tongue gathered my arousal off his long, well-endowed fingers. And though I could hear his groan well and clear, I felt it more than anything. It reverberated through my body and brought me more to life in a way I never thought imaginable.

No one had ever made me feel that way with one single sound, and that's how I knew.

I thought I knew it from the start—from when we were growing up—that I wanted to be near him forever. But It was always just a silly dream, something I was never quite able to reach, and as I got older and we rarely saw each other, it got harder to even imagine anymore.

Now I didn't have to imagine.

Spencer Reid was right in front of me, touching me, tasting me, verbally praising me with sounds I'd only ever dreamed of...

I wanted him to have his moment, because I was positive he'd wanted this just as much as I did, but this sappy sort of revelation I was having made it nearly impossible to not be utterly wrapped up in him, and I wanted more.

So I wiggled and adjusted myself underneath him before grabbing his hand and placing it over my heart. His eyes widened softly at the sight of me, and I knew then that he was taking the time to memorize my face, and the image of his hand resting at my chest, right where my heart was encased beneath bones, flesh, and fabric.

"I could look at you forever," he whispered then.

I would have been ashamed to admit that I whimpered when he said it, but the way he looked at me afterwards made me feel the exact opposite.

He smiled, using his other hand to come up and touch my face. "You want it bad, don't you, Honeybee?"

I didn't even argue with him this time. My head nodded and my hands reached out to pull him closer. "I want you... More than I've ever wanted anything."

Before he leaned down to kiss me, I could have swore he looked like he was going to shed a tear. The duality of him, his ability to be all teasing and cocky one second and then reduced to a lovesick mess at just a few words from me the next, made my heart sing.

And it kept singing, a sweet, steady melody as Spencer kissed me and touched me like he meant it.

Only this time, he didn't pause or tease me with theatrics. He went straight for the kill, fetching a condom from his pants pocket and then sliding the material down, all while keeping me trapped under his embrace. I welcomed it naturally, humming happily into his neck and jawline and anywhere I could reach as he got us both fully undressed and situated, until finally he had the condom on and his hands rested nicely on either side of my head.

"Promise not to sting me?"

I laughed, draping my arms over his shoulders and flashing him a wink. "Mmm, only if you promise to give it to me good..."

"Deal."

He slowly pushed into me then, and the stretch was far more satisfying than his fingers, though I was in no position to complain either way. If he was even half as skilled with his hips as he was with his hands (which I had no doubts about whatsoever), then neither of us had anything to worry about.

It didn't take long for us to find our rhythm, but I didn't have time to think about that. I was so consumed with just the feeling of him being everywhere that technicalities didn't matter.

That being said, the technicalities were really fucking good.

His hips snapped into mine with sharp precision, and I felt it deep within my bones. My cunt clung around him willingly and accordingly, as did my legs, which hooked over his waist as I dug my heels into his ass.

Meanwhile Spencer grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head again, this time interlocking our fingers and then leaning down to kiss me deeply. It was met with my undying welcome, of course, but with the way he was fucking me, deep and with a devotion that nearly exploded my heart, I couldn't help but whine out for more.

His name was all I could manage.

"What do you want, Honeybee?" he cooed, holding himself deep inside me and grinding his hips in small circles that made it harder to breathe.

"M—More... I..."

"Can you be more specific?"

How he could be such a cocky little shit in this moment I wasn't sure, and it frustrated me to no end. He knew damn well what I wanted, and I knew just the thing that would make him give it to me.

I have him the biggest pout I could, also whining out the most pathetic, "More," in my arsenal. And with a roll of my hips up into his, I gasped out at how deep he got, and whined out again.

"Spoiled brat," Spencer grunted in defeat, retreating only to slam into me at full force.

My small gasps and cries turned into full-blown howls of searing pleasure as he fucked me then. My head tipped back and my back arched slightly, exposing my neck and chest to him, and he took it as an invitation to lean down and put his mouth anywhere he could reach. I was sure there would be small nicks and bruises littered over my skin the next morning, and just thinking of everyone seeing them, seeing Spencer's mark on me, made it harder to prolong the inevitable.

I came with a shout, flexing my hands into his as my body tensed then relaxed, over and over while he whispered praises into my skin. He followed soon after, shoving his face into my neck and muffling the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard as he came.

By then his hands had loosened, so I snuck my own away from his and brought them over to hug him close. One hand knotted into his hair while the other grazed over his back. The thin sheen of sweat forming over his skin once again was more enticing than it probably sounded, but I loved it all the same. I felt him relax and bring his arms down to rest at my sides, his fingertips dancing lightly over my skin and giving me goosebumps.

Then out of nowhere, he said something that confused and mildly panicked me. "I thought you said you wouldn't sting me..."

I pulled away to try and look at his face, loosening my grip on his body. "A—Am I hurting you? I'm sorry..."

He laughed though, peppering tiny kisses up my neck until he got to my jaw. "You're not hurting me, Honeybee... You've just... stung my heart, that's all."

"I... Is that a bad thing?"

"It's a strange thing..."

He looked at me like I was the one thing on the planet he adored, but his words sounded different.

I raised an eyebrow. "You're not helping me understand..."

With another laugh, Spencer Kissed my cheek and rolled off of me, settling for laying on his side and turning me to face him. "Do you remember how I gave you your nickname?"

Despite my confusion about all of this, I entertained him with a huffed laugh. "Yeah, I spilled honey all over my shorts without realizing it, and I had ants all over me in a matter of minutes. I was terrified."

"I was highly amused."

I shoved him. "Yeah, dork, I know you were! You and Seraphina both thought it was the funniest thing on the planet, and then your mom had to come out and spray me down with a hose before I came back in the house."

Spencer barked a laugh, and I wanted to punch it right out of his mouth.

"Tell me again why this is relevant to our current situation?" I reminded him with and sigh, already over his antics.

Thankfully he seemed to take pity on me; He reached a hand out and played with a strand of my hair, smiling even brighter than when I opened the door for him. "That's when I started to feel it. You were just... so cute all angry at me and Sera for laughing, and it... It changed everything."

"You know, that would be more romantic if I hadn't been covered in bugs," I responded with a laugh.

"It's true! And it confused the hell out of me, because how was I supposed to cope with the fact that I actually had a crush on my little sister's best friend like some stupid cliché? You were always so feisty after that, too, and it certainly didn't help... And when I graduated and went off to college, I thought... I thought there was no chance you would ever be able to break the heart you'd managed to steal."

He swiped his thumb gently over my bottom lip and smiled, his eyes going all tear-y again. It sent butterflies through my whole body.

"I would never even dream of breaking your heart, Spencer..."

Our foreheads pressed together then, and the unwavering adoration in his voice when he spoke made me forget all prior confusion and minor embarrassment over re-living our origins.

All that mattered was that he was here, holding me in his arms and making me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

"I know you won't, Honeybee."

———

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lonely-lost-soul · 4 years ago

Text

Daddy's Little Girl

Request 10: Dad!Schlatt angst with the reader trying to protect Tubbo because the reader is his older sibling?

Requested By: Anonymous

TW: Abuse

Do you want angst? I’ll give you angst. Never challenge me again. /J

ily /p

(Hints of Wilbur and Techno x reader if you squint)

Growing up with Schlatt as your father had its ups and downs, on one hand, he was hilarious and let you get away with anything you wanted, but on the other hand, he had a drinking problem. When you were a little girl his drinking wasn’t too bad, some days were worse than others but most of the time he was semi cognizant. However, when your baby brother Tubbo came along everything changed, for a while he was sober. He was clear-headed, held a stable job on the SMP, and even helped you with your homework, but alas all good things come to an end. As soon as Tubbo started school, and your mom left he started up again, you weren’t happy. Your horns had begun to curl around your head around that time and your baby brother was enamored. He would wrap his chubby hands around them to pull and trace his fingers over the ridges, Tubbo would declare his horns were going to be just as magnificent as yours one day. You would flush at the praise and ruffle his hair, and told him you could already feel his little nubs growing in, he was overjoyed at the news.

Before Tubbo, Schlatt would never lay a hand on anyone, but something inside him crumbled. You had a few close calls, Tubbo bothering your father a little too much and Schlatt raised a hand to the boy. Luckily, you were always there to diffuse the situation and direct your father’s attention away from your baby brother. You were old enough to know just how impulsive and uncaring drinking made him, you tried to keep Tubbo as occupied as you could while keeping up with your work.

When Tubbo was ten years old he made his first friend.

Tubbo told you the kid’s name was Tommy, and he shared all the new information about his friend. He informed you he had two older brothers named Wilbur and Technoblade, who were about a year or two older than you. Tubbo desperately wanted to introduce you to him, but with your dad to keep an eye on you had to decline, at least for the time being. Tubbo pouted at your response and gave you, your biggest weakness puppy dog eyes, you relented. Promising to go with Tubbo to Tommy’s house in a few days to meet the brothers and supervise his play date with Tommy.

You just hoped your dad would be alright.

The day finally rolled around for you to meet the elusive Tommy and his brothers, you informed your dad that you and Tubbo would be gone for the rest of the day, he said it was alright. You think he just wanted to excuse to drink more while both of his children were gone.

“Come on (Y/n), let’s go already!” Tubbo called with a groan, you hushed him softly,

“Put your jacket on first.”

He reluctantly slipped on his jacket and grabbed his bag, you followed him out the door. Tubbo was buzzing with excitement holding his bee plush close to his chest, going on and on about how great Tommy was and how much he hoped you’d like Wilbur and Techno. Eventually, the both of you came upon a small cabin in the middle of a clearing, it was surrounded by lush pine trees and a little boy in a red and white shirt stood by the front gate.

“Tubbo!” The boy you assumed was Tommy shouted rushing over to the gate,

“Tommy!” Tubbo shouted with a laugh, he looked like he wanted to run towards him but first, he looked up at you. You smiled softly and gave your brother a nod, his face lit up and he charged towards Tommy. They met in the middle and Tommy immediately tackled Tubbo to the ground, a young man with glasses opened the window and began to shout at the blonde. He picked his head up and spotted you in the distance, his entire face flushed red, you sent him a little wave. The boy adjusted his glasses slamming the window shut, you titled your head to the side before seeing him and a taller boy with pink hair. While Tommy and Tubbo wrestled in the dirt the older boys walked up to you, they introduced themselves as Wilbur and Technoblade. They both were hybrids like yourself, you immediately felt at home, no wonder Tubbo liked it here so much.

Through the power of conversation you found out Technoblade was a piglin hybrid and Wilbur was half nymph, Tommy was just a plain human. Either their dad got around or some of them were adopted, you’d ask Tubbo later, figuring it was rude to blatantly ask that question. You found out the entire family thrived off of bulling one another it was quite funny to watch Technoblade roast the ever-loving shit out of Wilbur, unknown to you whenever you let a giggle or two slip past your lips Wilbur would flush and Technoblade would smirk. The end of the playdate rolled around and you found yourself not wanting to leave your new friends, Wilbur offered for you and Tubbo to sleep over but you politely declined. Technoblade shot Wilbur a concerned look when with a smile you said your dad would have your ass if you and Tubbo stayed over.

A few years went by since your first meeting, Tubbo and Tommy became inseparable and honestly, you and his brothers were in the same situation. Although you couldn’t see Technoblade and Wilbur as much as Tubbo could see Tommy the three of you were attached at the hip. Wilbur would constantly write you letters, sometimes the handwriting would switch and you noticed Techno put his blunt opinions into the conversation. Tubbo found one of the letters once and insisted that both boys must have a crush on you, you denied that with a soft laugh, just like your father you were under the impression you were unlovable.

Speaking of your dad, he was rarely ever sober at this point, rather being numb than feeling anything significant. Luckily he could be slightly functional, but mostly it was you raising Tubbo and protecting him from your dad’s off days. Speaking of an off day you had just gotten back from a trip of visiting your favorite boys, it was late and Tubbo was asleep in your arms. He was scratched up a bandaid was on his nose, and a bandage wrapped around his arm, he had taken a particularly nasty fall while wrestling with Tommy. Luckily both you and Wilbur were skilled in patching up rambunctious little brothers and he was fixed up in no time flat. You noticed the light on in the living room and grew concerned, your dad was always passed out in his bed by this time of night, was he alright?

Tubbo mumbled something in your arms and you pulled him close to your chest as to not wake the boy. “Dad?” You called softly wandering into the living room, much to your surprise he was very much awake. Your nose scrunched up in displeasure he reeked of whiskey and cigarettes, so tonight was a bad night.

Noted.

“You reek.” You commented adjusting the sleeping Tubbo in your arms, your father shot you a dirty look.

“Where the fuck have you been with the brat?” He hissed baring his teeth at you, “Do you know how late it is? Do you know how worried I was!” You hated the way your stomach churned with guilt and relief, at least he noticed his children were gone. He shouldn’t be praised for the bare minimum, Technoblade would’ve told you gruffly if he knew the full extent of your relationship.

“Out with Tommy, Wilbur, and Technoblade. Phil’s kids remember?” You responded with a soft sigh and he sent a dirty look your way standing up from his recliner. You backed up a few steps, the man towering over you eyeing Tubbo who was beginning to stir in your arms. Hesitantly you placed a hand over the back of his head, keeping it pressed tightly against your neck and shoulder. It only seemed to make Schlatt’s face scrunch up more,

“He looks so much like your mother.”

“I know dad.”

“Why’s he beat to shit?” He slurred reaching his hands out towards Tubbo, “You let him get hurt?”

“Tommy and he were just wrestling. Just being kids. I patched him up, he’s just sleepy.”

“So you let him get beat?”

“Dad no did you not hear me-” He grabbed one of your horns roughly yanking them down. You yelped in pain dropping Tubbo in the process, he hit the ground with a hard thud crying out from the rude awakening. “Dad you’re hurting me-”

“(Y/n)? Dad?” He murmured groggily barely processing the situation unfolding in front of him.

“Tubbo go to your room.” Your dad hissed at him, spit flying everywhere, Tubbo looked terrified. He looked at you and nodded the best you could with your dad’s iron-like grip on your horn, he scurried away and you felt your eyes fill with tears. If only he was a little older, he’d maybe be able to help you, but he was a child and didn’t need to see what was going to happen. “You’ve been running around without a care in the world, you’ve been going free for way too long. You’ve been a bad girl and now your getting punished.” Your blood turned to ice as the gip on your horn tightened,

“Dad, please I’m so sorry. I’ll make sure we get home on time from now on, you’re drunk. Please don’t do this you’ll regret it come the morning.”

“Shut the fuck up (Y/n)!” He spat his tobacco spit flying all over your face, you grimaced trying not to choke in disgust. “You think you know everything about the world but you don’t, you’re a stupid naive child!” He slammed the side of your head against the brick wall of your house. You yelped in pain feeling something crack against the wall, but it wasn’t your skull, it was your right horn.

“Dad- Dad please stop my horn-” You pleaded as he dragged you back by the hair and slammed you into the wall again. Your horn cracked once more and you screamed in pure agony, blood began to stain the wall where your head it, and your horn began to crack. “DAD!” You sobbed out as your horn broke off falling on the ground with a thud. Blood began to drip down the side of your head, your sobbing seemed to snap Schlatt back to his senses as he let out a soft call of your name.

“Fuck. Fuck baby I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked pulling you into his chest, he pressed his hands against the stub of your horn. You whimpered in pain and Schlatt shushed you softly, “I’m so sorry baby girl. My little girl, I didn’t mean it.” His head pressed into the crook of your neck, just where Tubbo’s was moments prior. “I’m such a fuck up. I’d never hurt you...I can’t do this…”

“It’s okay…” Your voice cracked eyes wide and glassy, it wasn’t okay but you weren’t about to tell him that. “Can I go to bed now…”

“Lemme patch you up first. You might bleed out...scare Tubs.” Schlatt grumbled and you nodded numbly. He helped you to your feet and you swayed, your dad haphazardly bandaged the side of your head and cauterized your horn. That might’ve hurt even more than losing the horn on its own, you held back your whimpers as your dad apologized even more for the pain he caused. “Get some rest alright…I love you.”

“Love you to dad,” You gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, you waited until he slipped into his room before you made your way into Tubbo’s. The boy was downright sobbing under his blankets, you pulled back the covers to find him desperately clinging to his bee plush.

“(Y/n)?” He whimpered looking up at you with wide eyes,

“Hey, Tubs…” Your smile was tense and he frowned, “Mr. Bumbles protect you okay? Just like we talked about?” Tubbo nodded lip trembling, he reached his hand up to touch your bandages. You flinched at his touch,

“Where’s your horn.”

“Unimportant. Just got into a little scuffle with dad, nothing your big sister can’t handle. Tubbo why don’t we go see Mr. Phil.”

“But it’s so late?”

“It’s okay. Go pack up a bag, you’ll be there for a while.”

“What about you?”

You sent him another tight-lipped smile, “I can’t stay there with you, unfortunately.”

“Then I don’t want to go!” He huffed defensively, your smile was wiped off your face.

“Not a suggestion-”

“NO! I’m not leaving you!” You grunted feeling him slam into your middle wrapping you in a tight hug. “Not with him...I need you. Who’s gonna protect me? Or read me bedtime stories? Or kiss me goodnight!” He began to cry through his protests and you knelt in front of him, you placed your hand on his cheek.

“Technoblade and Phil can protect you just fine. Wilbur would love to read you and Tommy’s bedtime stories. You’re too old for goodnight kisses-”

“Am not!”

“I can’t protect you anymore, not from dad.” Your voice shook a little before swallowing thickly, Tubbo’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. He’s never seen you look so scared, you were serious. “You deserve to grow up normally and happily, with a good dad and family.”

“You're good family.” Tubbo insisted grabbing your bigger hand with his own, you let out a wet laugh and held your other hand to your mouth. Swallowing again before responding to Tubbo’s heartfelt compliment,

“I’ll always be your family and I’ll always be your big sister. But for now, you’ll temporarily be part of Tommy’s family. Just until I’m old enough to take you away from all of this.”

“Promise?” He held out his pinky,

“Promise.” You responded interlocking your pinky with his own, he seemed much more satisfied and willing to listen to you now. “Now go pack up alright? We gotta go before the morning,” Tubbo nodded at you and began to gather his things in his bag. Eventually, he was all packed up and you both snuck out towards Tommy’s home, the side of your head was throbbing and you felt completely off balance stumbling over your feet a few times. Tubbo grew concerned but never actually voiced said concern, the two of you came up on Phil’s doorstep. You loudly began to knock at the door and Technoblade answered sword drawn, glasses were haphazardly thrown on his nose,

“(Y/n)? Tubbo?” He blinked blearily, “it’s like three am what-” Adjusting the glasses he finally got a good look at the both of you, Tubbo was still in his footie pajamas and you had officially bled through your bandages. “Who did it.”

“Technoblade please-”

“Who. Hurt. You.”

“I’m so tired, please just go get your dad.” You pleaded locking your eyes with his own, they softened considerably before muttering under his breath.

“Fine. But I’m getting Wilbur to look at your horn.” He demanded marching away from the door, you gently urged Tubbo inside and you both sat down on their couch. Tubbo yawned sleepily and leaned against your side,

“You can go to sleep. You’re safe now Bumblebee.”

“But you’ll be gone when I wake up…” He held Mr. Bumble closer to his chest and you brushed his hair out of his eyes. “I want you to have Mr. Bumble!” Tubbo held the toy out to you, your lips dipped into a little frown.

“Tubs he’s your favorite-

“He protected me from dad. So I’m sure he’ll protect you too.” You wanted to sob as you took the bee from his hands, you were going to say something else when Phil and Wilbur walked into the room. Phil gave you a pitying smile, before calling Tubbo over to him.

“Hey mate. Let’s get you settled into the guest room for now yeah?” The older man smiled at your brother and he nodded sleepily walking over to Phil. He gave you a look that said we’ll talk later as Wilbur walked over to you, the frown on his face was rock solid.

“You gonna explain yourself?” He scolded you like a parental figure would, you bit your lip and shook your head. Wilbur sighed the bags under his eyes were dark and you murmured a soft apology. He reached out and took your cheek in his palm, he leaned close and you felt his breath on his lips. You felt your cheeks turn pink and he leaned in...to take a better look at your horn.

God, you were so stupid why did you think he was going to kiss you just now?

“Jesus Christ…” He murmured as he unwrapped your wound gently. “They fucked you up honey,” Wilbur said softly, his voice dripping with pure concern, “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m alright...It’ll get better.” You smiled a tight-lipped smile that only caused Wilbur’s eyes to flash with pure rage, “Seriously Will. Please just let it go.”

“I’ll never understand you.” He muttered grumpily, much like his brother did when he greeted you at the door. “How can you not want justice for what they did to you? I don’t understand-” Wilbur blinked a few moments pulling away from you, you refused to meet his eyes. “-Did your dad do this to you?” He saw the fear spark in your eyes, “that fucking piece of shit! TECHNO!”

“Wilbur please no- no please he didn’t mean too he was drunk!” You slapped your hands over your mouth and he looked at you with horror. “Wilbur please don’t do anything he didn’t mean to do it, I have to look out for him!” Your breathing got short and rapid, immediately Wilbur felt bad for being so aggressive, “He’ll die without me.”

“It’s not your job to look after your father.” Wilbur looked at you with pity,

“Yes, it is. He’s my family.”

“Family doesn’t do this to you.” He motioned to your missing horn, the motion now made you feel wildly self-conscious, “they don’t hurt you.” You bit the bottom of your lip so hard it began to bleed,

“Just don’t tell Technoblade. He’ll kill him. You know he will, I don’t want that.” Wilbur didn’t look happy about the situation but he agreed reluctantly, but only if you stayed the night alongside Tubbo. You told him you would,

But you’re a liar.

Phil came back into the room a little later and asked to talk to you privately. He asked you what was going on and you explained the entire situation to him, practically pleading for him to take your baby brother in while you got Schlatt under control. Phil of course agreed, but he was not happy about you going back to your dad, especially since you were already injured. You assured him all would be okay, your dad meant well and with Tubbo out of the house, you can put all your energy into fixing him.

Phil let you go that night, and he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

No one in the Minecraft household heard from you again after that night. You seemed to slip out of everyone's memory, Wilbur met Sally and she and his son consumed his life. Technoblade moved out of the house to spread his wings, and the only person who even seemed to care that you were missing was Tubbo. Yet, even so, you began to slip out of his memory too, barely remembering your face. It broke him to pieces that he couldn’t remember his sister, and when he asked Wilbur about you the man's memory was just as fuzzy. The only thing he had was the letters the both of you sent back and forth to one another, he’d gifted them to Tubbo after he discovered them again under his childhood bed. Tubbo thought that maybe, just maybe, word of their new nation would cause you to come out of hiding.

It didn’t.

Eventually, he had to leave his memory of you behind and focus on helping Tommy and Wilbur. He hoped wherever you were you were proud of him, you wouldn’t want him to be miserable and dwell on you, you’d want him to live.

When he saw his father upon the podium the day of the election all he wanted to do was confront him about you, but there were other things to worry about like the fact that Wilbur and Tommy had just gotten exiled. Schlatt died before he got to ask about you, then right after that Wilbur died by Phil’s hand and everything was blown to shit, he had Tommy and that was all he needed.

Wilbur woke up to the soft chirping of birds and an angel sitting on a hillside. He couldn’t feel the grass under his palms or his heartbeat, but he felt something warm flood through him when he saw the angel. She turned towards him, his memory of her was fuzzy but her name wasn’t, “(Y/n)?”

“Hi Wilby, long time no see.” You smiled softly, both horns were missing but your soft ears twitched eagerly.

“Where...are we?” Wilbur whispered walking over to you to sit by your side, “What happened to you?”

“I lost another horn being stupid. Died from an infection while dad was away on a trip.” You pulled your legs close towards your chest, “you’re dead Will. We’re dead. It’s been quiet here for so long.”

“Dead…” He breathed out the negative memories flooding into his brain; he squeezed his eyes shut tight. “Are we ghosts?” You shrugged your shoulders,

“I don’t know, never tried to...go back,” Wilbur watched as you ran your hand through the grass even though Wilbur knew you couldn’t feel it. “Tubbo would be disappointed in me. So upset I died, I’d rather he not know. Makes it easier on everyone I think.” You turned to him, hair falling in your eyes, they were empty and your skin was so pale, he couldn’t imagine what he looked like in comparison. “Are you going to go back?” You spoke again after a few moments of silence, there was a tense atmosphere that filled the room, you didn’t want to be lonely.

“If you’re here, that’s where I’m going to stay. At least for a little while.” Wilbur looked at you, your eyes wide with shock, a brilliant smile spread across your cheeks.

“Promise?”

“With all my heart honey.”

#dadschlatt x reader #platonic schlatt x reader #platonic tubbo x reader #brother tubbo x sister reader #wilbur x reader #mcyt x reader #technoblade x reader #dreamsmp x reader #platonic dreamsmp x reader #mcyt x you #abuse #fanfiction #fanfic #trigger warning: abuse #angst

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randonowrong · 4 years ago

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Sir Billiam (Technoblade), Ranbutler (Ranboo), and James (Sapnap) x Servant! Reader [HCs]

A/N: I put it under the cut because it’s so long. I honestly just started writing and unknowingly put so many words into these headcanons. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Lord Billiam III (Technoblade):

You are one of his many employees at the estate.

You were an orphan that was brought (bought) by his parents to serve at the estate since their servants kept dying or leaving.

Growing up you were taught how to do household chores by the older servants.

Seeing as you are in the same age range as their son, your masters decided to make you his personal servant.

With how Billiam grew up into an adult, I would assume that he was taught this during his childhood.

His parents were very critical of the social divide between you and their son.

You never forgot the reminders that you were nothing compared to them.

Billiam kept the act his parents wanted whenever he interacted with you in front of them.

But he was always kind and gentle with you compared to the other servants even his parents weren’t present.

He taught you how to read and write, leaving you with his favorite books whenever he had business to attend.

He loved when you ran to him to ask something about the book that you couldn’t understand, or when you didn’t know what a word meant.

This went on for years until his parents caught you in his room reading while he wrote at his study.

He heard them start screaming profanity at you and he ran into his room to see you being dragged by the hair outside.

He walked forward to help you but his father told him to stay because they had to deal with the “filth”.

Months went by without him hearing or seeing you. He assumed the worst, his parents had you killed.

During the period, he refused to have another servant but you.

He acted out against his parents’ orders and started on his path to independence.

He focused on his studies and work so that he could take over the family business and lands so that he can find you.

After a long time, he finally saw you again.

This was when he stayed up late due to managing some family matters and he stepped out of his room to get some fresh air.

There you were, in the servant’s clothes, on your knees and wiping the floor clean.

“Y/N?” he asked, reaching out to you.

After you heard him you stood up and took a deep bow. “I apologize for disturbing you my lord, I shall leave immediately.”

He had no time to stop you from taking the cleaning supplies and booking it downstairs.

Every future instance where he tried to talk to you was met with profuse apologizing and leaving.

He eventually gave up on interacting with you, as in the few moments that you do, you make it clear you don’t want anything to do with him.

Without his anchor, his tether that kept him humane, he was consumed by the snobbish teachings of the aristocracy.

When his parents finally died, Billiam became the sole owner of the many properties and subsidiaries his parents’ managed.

His cruelty knew no bounds, severely punishing servants who made a slight mistake. Servants...except you.

When the heir became the lord, you had become appointed as the head servant of the estate, in charge of managing and teaching the staff to serve.

Servants would notice the tense air that hung when you and their employer would interact, the casual reports on the happenings at the estate, servants being laid off for mistakes, etc.

The first time you two had conversed without the awkwardness is when a deal he wanted to secure fell through. He was livid, destroying everything in his quarters.

Knowing that any miniscule slight while Billiam was furious would result in severe punishment, you took it upon yourself to fix the room. Deciding to spare the other servants from possible suffering.

When the noise of glass being thrown, tables being flipped, and paintings being torn had ceased, you decided to enter the room and tend to your lord.

Billiam stood by his overturned desk. Shards of glass from the decorations he threw stuck in his bleeding hand.

“My lord you are injured, please allow me to tend to your wounds.” he tensed after hearing your voice call out to him.

Turning around he observed the wreckage that he caused, his eyes stopping on your figure holding a rag and setting down a basin of water on the ground.

The room grew silent as you were crouched down and tending to Billiam, no sound threatened to escape from either of you.

When you finished picking out the shards and cleaning the wounds you stood up with the basin, now colored red, to leave the room when he grabbed your hand “Stop.”

Complying, you stopped in your tracks and faced him. “Yes my lord?”

“I-I...” he clenched his fists, trying to find the right words to tell you.

His mind cleared, he knew what he needed first from you. “I command you to tell me why you were and have been avoiding me!” he shouts, raising his voice.

You sigh, eyes drifting to stare at the floor as your lips open to answer. “It would be best to show you my lord.” you answer, setting down your things, you untie the affixes of your attire.

With the last of the strings untied, you turn around and move your top to expose your back to him.

His mouth agape, he stared at the lashes on your back, the burn marks, the deep cuts. “Wha-”

“It was your parents, my lord. They did not like it when they saw how close we were.” you added, beginning to fix yourself back up.

You felt him crash into you, pulling you into a tight hug, as his breath fanned your nape. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this.” you feel warm tears fall on your bare neck.

You let him be open with his emotions, as the dam that kept all of the pain in for the past years cracks and floods out. You hear him mumble apology after apology to you.

When his tears falter, you turn around and pull him into a hug. Tangling your hand in his hair and nudging his head into your neck to comfort him.

“Don’t apologize for feeling what you feel.”

His breath hitches as you continue speaking.

“And don’t apologize for loving me.”

That night was spent with Billiam being in your arms as he had wanted to be for years, finally feeling the warmth he did when you were both young.

The next day, your belongings were being moved by the servants outside of your quarters. Under orders from Lord Billiam they answered when you questioned why.

“You will no longer be the head servant, (Y/N).” Billiam stated as he walked towards you accompanied by three maids.

“From now on you shall be mine, the spouse of Lord Billiam III.” he smirked, holding out a hand for you.

You reach out and grab his hand “Yes, my lord.”

Ranbutler (Ranboo):

A fellow servant under the employ of Lord Billiam III.

The both of you were employed on the same day, as your new master needed more servants to manage the happenings around his vast estate.

Ranboo had no time to introduce himself to you as work was immediately shoved upon his shoulders, he would be acting as the personal servant at the side of Lord Billiam.

You, meanwhile, were in charge of managing the storehouse and making sure everything your master needed was in stock.

Life...is hard when serving under an aristocrat, more so under Lord Billiam.

He was very critical of everything and all he does is done with utmost perfection. Failure wasn’t allowed at his manor.

Thankfully, you were able to adjust easily to your job. Taking walks around the estate to question the denizens of the necessities which were needed. Being able to pick out the most affordable but high quality items.

Which lead to you being one of the few that did not catch the ire of your master. He had even given a sarcastic statement which sounded like a compliment? You were unsure if he was capable of complimenting a mere servant.

When Lord Billiam needed to attend to business away from the city, he left Ranboo in charge of acting in his stead, as one of his closest aides.

Most of the servants breathed a collective sigh of relief when the carriages, carrying your master, had left the confines of the property.

The few servants that stood by the side and watched the others silently knew something.

They couldn’t slack just because he wasn’t here. Lord Billiam has eyes and ears everywhere, so slacking off was something never to be done.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Ranboo walk and stand beside you. “Lord Billiam wants stocks of wine and other refreshments to be present in the cellar by the time he arrives. He specifically instructed to only procure the best, so do not worry about the cost.”

You nod and continue watching the rambunctious bunch of servants. “Of course. I assume Lord Billiam instructed you about that?” you question.

He gives a slight nod and turns to walk back inside the manor leaving you.

The next day, most of the servants had taken it upon themselves to have fun while doing their job. The cooks used ingredients to cook meals for themselves, the cleaners allowing dust and dirt to gather on the furniture.

You took your daily stroll around the place, taking mental notes of whatever the servants you crossed paths with were doing.

Absentmindedly you bumped into someone’s chest and mumbled a quick “Sorry.”

Looking up you came faced with the trusted aide of your lord. “Would you like to join me for afternoon tea?” he invited, gesturing to the direction of the balcony.

You raise a brow and begin walking with him towards the balcony. In your mind you wonder what his plans may be, knowing Lord Billiam must have trusted him with that.

Arriving at the balcony a gentle breeze blew through your hair as you looked at the table in front of you. An assortment of treats and sweets were laid out, a pot of tea with two cups and saucers present as well.

Ranboo walked to one of the chairs and pulled it out, gesturing for you to take a seat. When you did, he walked to his own and began pouring the hot beverage.

The two of you sat in silence, the only sound being heard were the chirping of the birds that flew overhead.

“So...I presume that you are on the same orders as I am?” you break the silence, taking a sip from your cup and staring at him for an answer.

He nods. “Sir Billiam has entrusted me with this job and I must fulfill it dutifully. You must understand so, (Y/N).” he grabs the pot and pours himself another cup.

“Yes...we must weed out the imperfections that our lord does not need.” you hum, staring at your reflection in the tea. “As our lord’s favored aids, you being publicly known, and I with the others being secret, must serve without fault.”

Your eyes both held a dark gleam, staring at each other with understanding of your orders. “Well, I am thankful for the tea, but I must continue with my work.” you stand and set down your saucer. “I enjoyed our small discussion. I hope to speak with you more in the future, now excuse me.”

The succeeding days were a blur, although your master was absent from the manor, there was still a backlog of work and duties which had to be done. Having to continue observing the other servants, managing deliveries and orders to and from the estate, and making sure your discussion with the butler was kept private.

Oh yes, speaking of the butler. He would be at each of your turns, giving his insight on what sir Billiam would order and keeping the estate running.

You would catch him in the corner of your eye, staring at you from the shadows. Though this did not faze you as he was just following commands, as was you.

When Lord Billiam III returned a week later all the servants stood outside to receive their Lord. They all stood firmly, heads bowing low, and no noise threatening to escape their lips. “Welcome back my Lord!” you all collectively shout.

You and Ranboo stood at the head of the two lines. Lord Billiam began to stride towards the entrance when he stopped in his tracks. “You two, follow me.” he commanded and continued on his path.

“Yes my lord.” you both answer, raising your heads and following him, keeping a suitable distance.

Arriving in front of the doors to his quarters, you both took steps forward and opened the double doors and bowing. You could feel the smirk that Sir Billiam held as he walked in, the two of you soon following and closing the doors.

Taking a seat at his study, Billiam put his hands together and set his elbows on the table. “Now, give me a detailed report you two.” he ordered.

You both nodded and gave detailed statements on what happened at the estate in the duration of his absence. Every mistake, every success, every mishap, everything. With him nodding to each explanation.

“I knew picking you two as my personal aides wasn’t a mistake.” he chuckles. “Now leave, I have work to do.” he states, voice turning cold.

In the morning, all the servants were gathered in the main hall. They whispered to one another, wondering about the sudden meeting.

The noises stopped as soon as Lord Billiam stood at the head of the stairs overlooking the foyer, he was followed by two servants, the butler and you.

“Now, you may all be wondering why I have called you all at such an ungodly hour.” he stated, looking at the servants like ants. “It has come to my attention the problems my estate faces, with regards to all of you.” he continues, taking delight in the looks of fear that some held.

“I hereby relieve you all of your duties, leave at once, I have no need for incompetents who slack around when they believe their master isn’t present.” he seethes, glaring at them, before turning and leaving the room.

You and Ranboo glance at each other as you hear the servants cry, some panic, some running to sort out their departure. No matter, you thought, as the butler put a hand on your shoulder and nodded.

He tugged your arm towards the balcony, a soft smile on his face. “Afternoon tea?”

“I would be glad to have some, Mr. Butler.”

Lord James (Sapnap):

You are a servant in service to Lord James’ family for a long period.

You were present from the beginning of his marriage to his subsequent divorce. Acting as one of his wife’s personal servants, in charge of dressing her and tending to her beck and call.

Having been assigned to her, you were well acquainted with Lord James. Being the one to inform him whenever your lady was unavailable.

Though the first interaction between just you two, not involving or speaking about anyone else happened quite later.

It happened after an argument with his wife, who promptly stormed out of the manor, leaving you with her husband. You felt awkward being left in the same room without your lady.

You were ready to walk out of the room when you suddenly heard him collapse as he began to sob.

You crouched down and held him up, comfortingly rubbing his back. You were about to speak when you were pulled into a hug, feeling tears fall on your shirt.

You stayed on the floor, letting James cry his heart out. You continued rubbing his back but stayed silent.

Once his tears stopped flowing, you helped him stand and walk to his bed.

Turning to leave the room, you were stopped when he grabbed your hand firmly. “Stay.” he softly spoke, tugging you towards the bed.

“My lord, we can’t, what would my lady think-” you protested, worried for yourself and for him, already thinking of the scale of this scandal if word got out.

“I just...want someone to hold me, please.” he pleaded, eyes downcast towards the floor.

You relented as he brought you into an embrace and pulled you into the bed. He rest his head in the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning your skin.

Within moments, he had fallen asleep, obviously emotionally drained with all the baggage he’d been carrying. You sigh, running a hand through his soft locks. He stirred in his sleep and moved his head closer to your hand.

You stayed there for a few minutes, a wave of exhaustion washing over you as well. Slowly, you were lulled to sleep with the sound of his breathing...

Awakening, you rubbed your eyes, it was still dark outside possibly nearing daybreak you assumed. Turning your head, you saw Lord James. He still remained clung to your side like a babe.

Although you wanted to stay in the comforts of the soft bed, one which could not be said for your own in the servants’ quarter, you decided to leave before his wife came upon the scene.

Slowly, you wrung the arm he was hugging from his grasp and stood up from the bed. Fixing your attire you saw as he stirred from his sleep, moving to search for the source of heat that moved away.

You smiled, tugging the blankets over his figure and patting his head one last time before exiting the room.

With a soft click of the door, you scanned the halls, it was empty. You breathed a sigh of relief, it was a good thing no one caught you at this time. You knew what people would assume if they had seen you, a lusty commoner ruins another marriage.

You began your walk towards the servants’ shared quarters, the light of the moon passing through the window lighting your path.

James awoke the next day, with a blanket draped over him. He smiled, knowing you did this.

He heard a knock at the door “My lord, breakfast has been served and my lady is looking for you.” a servant called out before the clacking of their shoes indicated they walked away.

Sighing, he began to prepare himself for the day, grabbing a new tunic and fixing his disheveled appearance.

Arriving at the dining hall, he saw servants running around the place, placing plates and utensils on the table. Some were bringing out the food from the kitchens.

Although his eyes drifted immediately to you. You were stood by his wife and listening to the orders she barked at you. With each command earning a nod of acknowledgement from you afterwards.

With a wave of her hand, she dismissed you and turned to start her meal. You bowed and turned to exit the room when your eyes met James’. You stilled before casting your eyes to the floor and walking out of the hall.

James understood it all too well, once being someone who laughed at the broken marriages of other nobles, caused by them falling prey to their servants’ temptation. He couldn’t laugh, now that he was one of them.

He knew it was wrong though. He was already married, and had a duty to fulfill to his family and wife. While you? You were trying to survive in society, not wanting to be part of any drama.

Snapping out of his trance when his wife called out to him, he sighed and took a seat at the table. Mind still focused on you.

Even though he consummated the marriage and had children with her. His love and yearning for you never faltered. You were by her side every step of their marriage. You took turns with the nannies in watching the children, sometimes being left to care for them when James and his wife went on trips.

Through the years you two did this careful dance. Feathery touches that drifted on your skin for moments before disappearing. Loving glances thrown at each other’s way. The soft tone of his voice when he spoke to you. Though others would think nothing of it, the two of you knew the fragile fantasy going on.

A fragile fantasy that all came crashing down that day.

Screaming could be heard throughout the whole manor, servants stayed quiet and steered away from the room, which you couldn’t really do.

As the personal servant of Lord James’ wife, you stood by the sidelines as they threw words, insults, and the occasional object at each other in their rage.

In her anger she threw one of the decorative stones on the nearby table. Lord James saw it and was able to jump out of the way.

They both stopped when they heard it collide with something else. Turning around, he saw the stone on the floor with blood staining one side of it.

You crouched down from the pain and put a hand on the side of your head, retracting it you could see the red color staining your skin.

“(Y/N)!” James shouted, running over to help you up when his wife cut in.

“Don’t help that lowly servant! Pay attention to me you bastard! Do you think I wouldn’t notice?!” she shouted.

James paid no mind to her as he caught you in his arms. You had passed out from the blood loss, and probably the concussion on your head.

“Don’t think we aren’t done talking! You still haven’t answered me!” she continued to scream, though her words never reached his ears.

Picking you up he turned and glared at her. “We’ll speak about this tomorrow.” he firmly stated, before walking out and bring you to an empty room so he can tend to you.

You awoke with a headache, it was dark. Sitting up on the bed, you noticed you were one in the spare bedrooms and gripped your forehead as a stinging pain came. Right...you got hit by a rock.

You jumped when you heard the door open. Turning you came faced with Lord James, the upper buttons of his shirt being undone and a hand running through his hair.

He opened his eyes and met yours, then he scrambled towards you. “Are you okay? Is there still pain? Do you want me to call the physician?”

“Please do not worry yourself over me my lord.” you answered, wanting to keep the formality of the situation. Standing up from the bed you put your hand over his, which was placed on the side of your head.

“I- uh yes.” he coughed, retracting his hand and putting them by his side. “I’m sorry about that, you didn’t need to get caught up in our argument.”

Your eyes widened, your lady must be looking for you right now. “Excuse me, my lord.” you stated in panic, patting yourself down to look presentable before running out of the room.

“No need, she’s gone.” you heard James state as you stopped in your tracks. “Our divorce will be finalized in a few days, and she doesn’t want anything to do with me or you anymore.”

Thoughts raced through your mind, does she know about the incident, what would happen to you if she did. Your breathing picked up as you stilled.

James brought you into an embrace, your back hitting his chest as he dipped his head into the top of your head and inhaled. Your hair smelled lovely, comparable to that of other noble ladies. He shut the door, wanting to keep the privacy between you two.

“My lord, we shouldn’t it isn’t proper.” you stated, keeping firm on the fact you wanted to preserve not only your reputation but more importantly his.

“I don’t care.”

“But what would others think?”

“I don’t care.” he firmly stated, turning you around and pushing you against the wall.

“For years I’ve kept these feelings inside and now that there isn’t anything stopping me, I can finally express these repressed emotions.” he continued.

“I...I...-” he trailed.

“I command you to love me!” he shouted. trapping you against the wall with his forehead touching your own.

You sigh in defeat and finally relent, reaching up and cupping his cheek, “I already do, my lord.”

#technoblade x reader #ranboo x reader #sapnap x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #tftsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #tales from the smp x reader

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ariaadagio · 3 years ago

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Thoughts about S6

This is gonna be a little all over the place. Just me rambling, really.

So, I went up to LA to watch the show with some fandom friends on Friday. We had an absolute blast. I loved the finale season of the show. LOVED. I had some quibbles, of course, but none worth lingering on at length. I know the ending was controversial for some, but not for me. It worked on all levels.

I didn’t have much love for the end of 5B (I know, y’all are probably shocked, given some of the things I’ve written re: Lucifer becoming God or godlike) which is why I never really chimed in on the post-5B discussion. I just couldn’t muster much enthusiasm about it, and I didn’t want to froth about or hate on it when other people were having fun and gushing.

But my main issues at the time involved: Lucifer suddenly wanting to become God felt poorly setup and unearned, and Chloe suddenly quitting the force to support Lucifer becoming God felt incredibly impulsive, perhaps almost out of character.

S6 not only was perfect for me in its own right, it actually went back and fixed my S5B issues retrospectively. Lucifer suddenly wanting to become God felt poorly setup because it WAS poorly set up. On purpose. He never actually wanted to be God. It wasn’t his calling. And Chloe dropping her Detective job so suddenly WAS impulsive. On purpose. She really didn’t think that one through and ended up being bored out of her fucking mind without that job to engage her problem-solving brain. So ... kudos to the writers for that. I am so pleasantly surprised by that backtracking and never expected it.

As far as season 6 goes ... oh my gosh, what a brilliant roller coaster. Like @tarysande, I also spent a large portion of the season wondering what the evil trick was with Rory. I didn’t trust ANYTHING she said for many episodes. I kept waiting for a shoe to drop that never did. I really appreciate that Deckerstar did not get married—I never felt like a marriage was necessary for them given where they were in their life (a divorcee and a Devil who isn’t beholden to human constructs of law). I actively did not want a Deckerstar baby, but the show did it in a way I found absolutely lovely. Rather than using Rory as a magical “happily ever after” button as so many shows do, she was a tool to create massive character growth in Lucifer, and I am so on board with that.

I cried during this season. Frequently. Which is something that rarely happens for me when watching or reading fiction. I am just ... so stupidly emotionally involved in these great characters.

Some people may fixate on the separation between Lucifer and Chloe until her death, but to me ... it worked. Lucifer found a higher purpose and chose to fulfill it, to keep his promise to his daughter—to be a better father for Rory than his father was for him—and he does still ultimately get a “happily ever after” with his family and friends and dearest loved ones. It just starts a little later than planned. Chloe, meanwhile, gets to live her life knowing without doubt the love of her life is not only okay & pursuing his calling, he’s waiting for her on the flip side. They’ll have eternity together—ETERNITY, in exchange for a few decades apart. Bittersweet? Yes. Tragic? No. So I am okay with this. This is a level of certainty no real human ever gets—and as someone with zero certainty about the future whatsoever, I can’t express enough how much this foreknowledge alone would be a comfort in difficult times. It really resonates with me as a meaningful gift.

I do agree that there’s plenty of room for Lucifer to see Chloe without Rory’s knowledge, though I’m on the fence about how realistic this is. I think Dan called it, honestly. Having to watch and not participate is more torturous than not participating at all. And, as I said, he gets to see everybody eventually. He knows his daughter will understand—actively consents, even—and he knows their reunion will come. He knows Chloe will come back to him, too, because he’s grown to trust and love her fully.

Along those lines, Lucifer showed amazing character development this year. Once this man figures out his feelings and commits, he is ALL IN. I was so proud of him, talking out his feelings, and saying I love you, and hugging people left and right. His goodbyes made me tear up, particularly the scene with Maze. Which. OMG. These two. That scene was a long time coming, and so heartfelt. i loved it. I also loved how comfortable in his own skin he finally seemed this season. He utilized his wings SO MUCH. And his devil face where appropriate. And there was zero angst about any of it.

Time travel is a trope that tends to break my brain, but ... I think Rory showing up is what enabled her own conception. Lucifer didn’t think he could have kids until he finds out he does in the future and then boom, suddenly he can conceive. He self-actualized working swimmers. I know this creates a chicken or the egg paradox—how could this loop ever even start if Rory hadn’t existed at least once on her own—buuut, I’ve definitely seen this trope used in other shows, such as Netflix’s Dark. So, imho, there was an added level to Lucifer’s sacrifice at the end—he wasn’t just trying to preserve his own epiphany via a promise to his daughter, he was actively choosing to save his daughter’s entire existence, and he was choosing to be different from his father.

People who think Lucifer was robbed of choice ... I beg to differ. For the reasons stated above, and also? He was the one who came up with the idea of returning to Hell. No one forced that on him. The only thing Rory did was speed up his time table. And I think there’s a beautiful kind of symmetry to the idea of him returning to Hell and choosing to reframe it as a place of healing, rather than eternal suffering. In a sense, he’s making his own Plan for himself. He’s defining his role in the universe: the Devil, not God. He’s defining his family: Chloe, Rory, Trixie, Dan, Maze, Eve, Linda, Amenadiel, Ella, and all the great friends he’s made. He’s defining his home: not a place, but where his heart is. For the first time in his life, the Devil decided who he is and what he wants to do with his life, instead of letting external forces do it for him.

And I fucking loved every minute of it.

A perfect ending for a long, thoughtful journey.

P.S. If you disagree with me, that’s fine. There’s no wrong way to interpret art and media. But please know I’m not really in the mindset for debate right now. I just want to live in my happy post-S6 bubble. I’d appreciate it if you let me :)

#lucifer meta #lucifer on netflix #lucifer s6 spoilers

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Revision.

Commissioned by the very lovely @pyrokittyowo.

Pairing: Yandere!Simeon/Reader (Obey Me).

Word Count: 2.2k.

TW: Past Trauma, Toxic Relationships, Codependency, Infantilization, Isolation, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Manipulation, Gaslighting.

The sun never sets in the Celestial Realm.

It’s less whimsical than it sounds, to be fair. Sleep is a luxury for angels, a way to pass time for the young and the injured, but that hadn't been something Simeon thought to tell you when you first arrived, as you tried to follow his mangled, irregular cycle of rest and work. You’d gotten the hang of it with time, carved out your own routine and forced yourself to follow it, but you’d be lying if you said you were completely used to it. It was grating, if anything, just how bright all of it was, the shine only amplified by the ivory and gold angels seemed so fond of. It was overwhelming, really. If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve called it unbearable.

But, you did know better. This realm was warm, but not stifling, not half as oppressive as the Devildom had been. It didn’t have the same constant chill, a pervasive darkness only made worse by the humid air and that invasive metallic scent, like stone and rock and the blood that must've been soaked into the cracks of both. The darkness was worse. All of it was worse, but you tried to keep your mind on the landscape, the starless sky, the bleakness you’d slowly grown to hate.

If you let yourself think about anything else, you’d have to think about the people you’d met, the brothers, the way they’d looked at you. You’d have to remember how tight Mammon’s grip had been, the first time he took you by the wrist rather than the hand, or how dull Beelzebub's fangs were and how much it hurt when he drove them into your skin, your chest, the sensitive area just below your collarbone that never failed to bleed, when it bit down. You’d have to think about how Lucifer’s hand felt as it wrapped around your neck, the sound of your own failing breath, the way he’d laughed as you—

You inhaled sharply, cutting yourself off before you could get any more lost in the memory.

Because that’s what it was – just a memory. Something you’d never have to worry about again, thanks to Simeon.

Still, you were allowed to complain. Even indoors, perched in one of the many bay windows spotted around Simeon’s sizable chambers, you could feel the unyielding sun, notice the light start to eat away at your vision like a hungry, gnawing parasite. There were clouds in the sky, perfect wisps of nothing, but they'd been their since the day you first arrived, fixed features on an unchanging canvas. They wouldn't move. You already knew that. Nothing moved in the Celestial Realm, not unless it had a reason to.

And yet, you found yourself opening your mouth regardless, asking the question that’d been playing on your tongue all day. You could let yourself have this. You could hope that were wrong. It wasn't like this would be the first time. “It doesn’t rain here, does it?”

Immediately, there was a hum from across the room, one of the many soft sounds Simeon seemed to be so fond of. You should’ve been glad he was there to answer at all, really. Simeon spent most of the day tending to his vague responsibilities. If he had time to sit around, pouring over a scroll in a language you couldn’t recognize, it must’ve meant it was either too early in the morning or too late at night for him to be bothered with anything else. You couldn’t be sure which, not when the two were so impossible to tell apart. “Rarely,” He replied, still distracted. “Michael tries not to leave the weather up to chance. If he needed a storm, I’d be able to tell you weeks in advance.”

You almost felt bad for him. You would’ve hated it, knowing everything long before it actually happened, but you doubted Simeon would ever let himself be so careless. “I don’t know how I’d stay sane,” You admitted, your gaze moving back to the window. A white dove had landed on the edge of Simeon’s windowsill, meticulously sorting through bleached feathers with its pointed beak, and idly, you wondered if the animals bothered to regulate themselves, too. “You wouldn't like my hometown. Couldn’t see the sky most days, and when you could, it was nearly too hot to go outside. Never stopped it from snowing a month before winter, though.” You paused, letting yourself smile at the thought. You missed it; you weren’t going to try to deny that. You were still allowed to miss things. “Luke would probably love it. Say what you want about humans, but we've never gotten a bakery wrong.”

Simeon didn’t hum, this time. The silence couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds, but your heart still found a way to tighten in your chest, stopping completely as you heard his chair scrape against the floor, sharp footsteps following the noise immediately. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, and he was kind enough not to force you to, brushing off your avoidance as he positioned himself on the opposite side of your small shelter. It wasn't much of an improvement, though. If he'd just let himself be a little more cruel, you might've had the pleasure of hating him for it.

“You’re thinking about the human world again.”

He was getting straight to the point. You couldn’t say you weren’t thankful.

“How can I not?” You tried to laugh, but it came out strained, out of place against his sober expression. “I haven’t been home in a year. I’m bound to want to go back, eventually.”

“You know it’s not safe.” It was a familiar mantra, one you should’ve been numb to, but it still found a way to hurt, to linger, accumulate into a small, aching knot in the back of your throat as you reminded yourself that he was only doing it because he cared. That was all – he cared. He didn’t want to see you get hurt, not again. He didn’t want to see you face anything more harmful than his clumsy comfort, even if he did have a strange way of showing it. “We’ve talked about this before, (Y/n). It’s still too early to tell if Lucifer left any lasting damage. There could still be a tracking spell I haven’t discovered yet, or worse.” There was a pause, and a gloved hand came to rest on your knee. You could’ve mouthed the words, as he said them. “I can keep you safe here, but your world is neutral territory. I might not be able to stop him, if he and his brothers tried to take you away.”

You hated the way he said it. Part of you, a persistent minority, still wanted to think this was all a misunderstanding, a result of crossed wires and mixed messages and the kind of miscommunications that only ever led to such awful things. You knew it was unhealthy, to try to tint your own memories with such a forgiving light, but that didn't help you smother the temptation to believe all the soft, pleasant encouragements Asmodeus had whispered in your ear as his brothers lived out their distorted, carnal fantasies. Whatever Simeon was trying to do, it certainly wasn’t helping, either.

“I’ll be careful,” You tried, slouching against the glass. It was warm to the touch, a feeling you savored under his cold gaze. “It’d be a day trip, at most. Just a few hours. I…” He was wearing the silk gloves, today, soft and smooth as he raised his hand, cupping your cheek without a trace of hesitation. You trailed off instantly, still unused to the gentleness. “I just want to see my family, that’s all. Even if it’s only for a few minutes.”

“You’re bored of me, now?” It was supposed to be playful, the question accompanied by a light chuckle, but you still shook your head, leaning into his palm as you went on. “I can’t say I blame you. I know I’m not one for company, but if you’re dying for entertainment, I can see what—”

“It’s not just that.” You should've let him finish, but it was already too late to stop yourself. You didn’t want to stop yourself, if you were being honest. You just wanted to go somewhere else, somewhere different, a place where the sky didn’t hurt to look at and the sun wasn’t so willing to punish you for existing. You wanted to be able to step outside without worrying whether or not your angelic hosts still thought you were worthy of their concern. You didn’t want this, anymore, even if it was the better option. “I’m just tired, Simeon. I’m tired of being here, I’m tired of running, and I just want to go home—”

There was a small huff, a sharp crack. By the time you realized what happed, by the time that sudden acidic sting faded into a steady throb, his thumb was already digging into your jaw, your head forcibly tilted back in such a way that made it so you had to look at him. You couldn’t avoid the softened anger in his eyes, or the stiffness in his posture, or that tight, unignorable scowl. He was disappointed, and he wanted you to know you were the reason why. He was mad at you, and you’d done everything to earn it.

When he spoke, he did so slowly. Like he was talking to a child who hadn’t quite come to terms with reality, just yet. “I’ve taken care of you, haven’t I?”

“You have.” There was no point trying to deny it. If it hadn’t been for Simeon, you’d still be rotting in that hellscape, subject to the whims of a family of monsters. He'd saved you. He'd helped you escape, and you had to be thankful for that. “I just don’t know if I can—”

“And you care about me, right? You don’t want to see me worry?”

You hesitated, but your answer was inevitable “Of course.”

“And you do remember the last thing Belphie said to you, don’t you? What he did to send you running to me?” He let himself smile, despite the nature of the question. “I could barely understand you back then, with the crying and all. Honestly, I almost didn't notice you were begging me to save you.” It was easy to forget how Simeon could be, when he knew he was right. Most of the time, his confidence was comforting, a gentle reminder that you could trust him, that you should trust him. Right now, it just made you feel weak. “What was it, again? C’mon, love, you can tell me, can’t you?”

You could. Objectively, you could, if you tried to. You could force your mouth to make the words, you could shut your eyes and let Simeon guide you through it, and you could tell yourself they were just memories, that you were somewhere else now, that you were somewhere better, but…

But, you really, really didn’t want to, and you couldn’t convince yourself you did.

If you did, you’d have to remember how tightly Belphegor had held your hand, as he said it, his fingers intertwined with yours and his grip strong enough to leave your palm bruised, after he pulled away. You’d have to think about the small smile he wore, the hatred in his half-lidded eyes, the chill that'd run down your spine as he hid his face in the crook of your shoulder and told you that, if you ever tried to leave him, if he ever had to share you with anyone beyond the six exceptions he was already making, he’d kill you. It was as simple as that.

If he ever saw you again, he’d kill you.

You were safe, here. You were safe in the Celestial Realm, you were safe with Simeon, but you still found yourself choking on the words, your throat going dry as your shoulders pitched forward, a bolt of something frozen striking your chest before you could ward it off. You couldn't be sure why something so distant would make you cry, but you could feel it coming on – hot tears welling in your eyes, blurring your vision, threatening to spill over and strip you of what little pride you had left, but Simeon only wiped them away, as doting as he always was. As loving as he always was, even when you took his patience for granted. Even when you hesitated to lean into him, as he pulled you into his chest, urging you to hide your face and treat him like the pillar of support he was so clearly trying to be. Even when you didn't deserve it, when you didn't deserve him, when you didn't deserve any of this, not when he was kind enough to pretend he didn't know that just as well as you.

“Poor little thing.” He was humming, now, his tone teetering on the line between carelessness and comfort. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, not in the moment, not when it was all you could do to muffle your hitched sobs into small, pathetic whimpers. “It’s nothing to blame yourself for. You just need a little help.” Another pause, elongated and purposeful. Sadistic, in only because he had to try so hard not to be. “You just need someone to protect you. It’s only human.”

It was all you could do to nod, to agree, as mindlessly as you were capable of. You didn’t want to think. You didn’t want to risk remembering something you shouldn’t.

Instead, you just focused on the sunlight streaming the nearest window, how it felt as it hit you.

How, wherever your skin made contact with Simeon’s, it seemed to grow just a little more insufferable than it had been, a second ago.

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dameronsknight · 3 years ago

Text

Pretty Day || poe dameron x solo!reader

Summary: reader enjoys a pretty and calm day with Poe. Everything is just perfect.

warnings: a tiny bit of angst if you squint, and just fluff

Having a day off in the Resistance did not happen all the time. Not with the first order breathing on your neck and hunting you down. Everybody had something to do. X-Wing fighters had missions and surveillance to do around base to make sure there were no dreadnoughts around. Mechanics had to fix ships. Medics were always at the med bay, patching someone up, and healing wounds.

And me, a semi jedi, would always go into the woods of Ajan Kloss with Rey to continue with our training.

But not today. Today was one of those calm days in the midst of a war. One might even say it's the calm before the storm, but I couldn't care less when I'm laying on the grass next to my best friend. Poe Dameron.

"It's been a while since there was a pretty day on this humid planet." Poe said while looking up to the sky. I hummed in agreement.

"It's not to hot and not to cold. No missions or debriefing to do. Maker, I miss days like these..." I said before closing my eyes.

Poe turned his head to look at me. I could sense it. His soft features shining under the warm sun. He looked like a dream, and if I turned to look at him I would be a blushing mess.

"What are you gonna do when this war ends?" Poe suddenly asked. I opened my eyes and frowned. Feeling a pang of pain and guilt in my chest.

"If it ends." I said softly. The memory of Kylo Ren, my brother, comes to my mind. That night at Uncle Luke's temple. The disaster Ben made.

"Oh, come on. Don't start saying that." Poe said as he propped himself on to his side, holding himself up with his elbow. He sighed when I stayed quiet and didn't look at him. "...It wasn't your fault." He said quietly and that made the lump in my throat appear.

I didn't want to be the one to ruin his illusion. Poe doesn't deserve that. He brings so much hope and happiness to the Resistance. I don't know what I would do without him. So I smiled softly and looked at him.

"When this war ends..." I started to say which made him smile. But I didn't know what to say. "... I honestly don't know. Go wherever my mom goes probably. Try to help build the Republic again. Bring back the balance." I shrugged.

Poe nodded. "That's probably what I would do too." He said and looked down at the grass. "... I also want a family." He said with a chuckle. I looked at him and instantly felt jealous of the person who will form that family with him.

"I'm sure you would make a wonderful family, Poe. Just imagine all the little flyboys there would be." I said grinning. Poe smiled softly at me. "Or flygirls, who knows."

"Yeah. But the person who I want this family with has to want it with me too." He said. I sat up and cleared my throat.

"Well whoever they are, that person would be an idiot if they don't want that life with you." I said.

I've had feelings for Poe ever since I met him. That day when I came back from that night. Losing my brother, not knowing where Uncle Luke had left. My mom and dad were asking me what happened, trying to calm me down, but I just wanted to be alone. So I hid in a hangar of the old Rebel Base we were at, and cried for hours.

BB-8 was the one who found me first then slowly rolled towards me and beeped at me. I know he was saying "Hello. What's wrong?". I didn't know what to answer, so he just rolled away. At the moment I thought he gave up and left me alone, but I found out later that he left to get Poe. Apparently he said to him "Human girl crying all alone.", and led Poe to me. That's when I met him. He didn't even know me but his priority at that moment was to make sure I was okay and cheer me up.

Since then, our friendship grew and my feelings for him did as well. But Poe is a bit older than me and my friend. That's it. I'm sure he would never look at me any other way.

I was brought back to the present moment when Poe spoke again. "I don't know... It's complicated. There are rules." He said and looked across him.

I huffed out a laugh. "What do you mean by rules?" I asked.

Poe looked at me and there was something in his face that seemed off. An emotion I couldn't quite describe. It was like he was really upset about this.

And suddenly a wave hit me. Being sensitive to the force has its perks. I can feel emotions and almost read thoughts.

Poe shook his head and sighed. "Listen, y/n, I..." He started saying.

Maker. How could I have not seen it before? The look in his eyes. The way he feels when he's around me. It's the same as I feel. Poe feels the same.

"I don't know how the whole jedi thing works. You know, with the rules of the Jedi order. No relationships. Only balance." He said and my heart softened. How can a person be so cute and respectful?

"Technically there is no Jedi order anymore. It's just Rey and me..." I said with a soft smile. Poe's face suddenly turned into hope.

"Y/n... Just tell me you feel the same way and don't play with my fragile heart." He said half jokingly and it made me laugh.

I jumped towards him and hugged him with all my strength. "I always have." I said and felt Poe hug me back with that same strength. I could hear him sigh in relief.

"Sweetheart, you have no idea how happy you just made me." He said and leaned back to look at me. He lifted a hand to caress my face and I was melting inside.

This feeling is so much stronger than the use. It wraps around my body and soul entirely and I've never been so happy in my entire life.

"Now we have one task left." I said.

"What's that?" He asked.

"We have to win this damn war to start that family." I said with a smile and Poe chuckled.

"Maker, I adore you." He said and with that he leaned forward and kissed me. I returned the gesture.

Thank you Ajan Kloss for giving me such a pretty day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

author's note: MY FIRST POE FIC OMGGGGG

any comments and thoughts are appreciated

hope you enjoyed it <3

have a great day!

#poedameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #star wars imagine #oscar isaac #poe dameron x you

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one-boring-person · 4 years ago

Note

Hey!

I was wondering if I could request a Rambo x reader set in the first movie, if that’s alright, where the reader sees him walking through town and knows that Sheriff Teasle will try to bully him out of town so she pulls over and lies about them being old friends and then they go to eat or something? And the reader actually treats Rambo like a human being and thanks him for his service to his country when she finds out he is a veteran. Oh and could the reader be female please? Thank you very much! If not then that’s totally fine 😊

And I also wanted to say that your writing is amazing!!! And the reason I ended up watching Rambo in the first place 😆

Hope you have a great night/day!

Nfhfhhhf thank you so much! I'm so glad you like my stuff! And I got you into Rambo? Hell yeah!😂 I liked this request a lot, so I hope I've done it justice!

Respect Me.

John Rambo (First Blood) x reader

Warnings: mentions of war, mentions if death

Masterlist

For once, the truck sound system seems to be playing the tape flawlessly, lacking the usual stuttering and skipping it generally likes to include in the soft flow of music. Idly, I tap my fingers along with the gentle beat, the steering wheel moving easily in my grip as I guide the beaten pick-up truck out onto the main road, falling in line with the other traffic around me. The vehicle shudders a little as I change the gears, the old truck having never liked to do anything it should do, slowly moving into a more sustainable pace as I lean back in my seat, keeping my eyes trained on the road, with a half-eye kept on the sidewalk and nearby shops. A few Christmas decorations adorn the homely stores, though it's mostly left dull and bleak, as this town always has been. Once again, I find myself wishing I could just move away from here, start a new life somewhere else.

Ahead of me, the traffic slows, allowing someone to turn into the main flow, giving me the time to glance out of the window, scanning the sidewalk a little way away. Oddly, a familiar police vehicle has pulled up just past a nearby junction, the driver leaning out of the window to talk to someone on the pavement, who I have yet to be able to see. The car is Sheriff Teasle's, the knowledge of which does not sit well with me - If he's pulled someone over, it's not for a good reason.

Checking my mirrors, I indicate off towards the sheriff, leaving the main flow as I follow the curb round, finally able to see who Teasle is talking to. Just as I feared, it looks as if he's pulled up a random person for yet another unfair interrogation. Frowning, I regard the solemn-looking man with interest, trying to ignore the part of me that finds his somewhat crooked features incredibly attractive, taking note of his obvious vagrancy: his hair is long and shaggy, clearly being left uncut for months on end, his dust-strewn parka and faded jeans showing signs of constant wear. From what I can see, Teasle is questioning him, most likely about the guy's purpose in Hope, though he doesn't seem particularly open to this encounter. Making up my mind, I cross my fingers and hope my plan now works.

Pulling up beside the two, I stop the car and climb out, plastering on a convincing grin as I go towards the dark-haired man, greeting him as I go.

"John! I didn't realise you were in town! You should've said something!" I exclaim, pleading the man with my eyes that he'll play along, though it's somewhat unlikely.

He gives me a shocked look, head snapping round at the sound of the name, hard eyes fixing on me with suspicion and hostility, the severity of the expression sending a shudder down my spine. Teasle also looks to me, frowning.

"And to think you were left to walk along here in the cold! Jeez, you really should have called or something, I could've picked you up!" I carry on, praying that he picks up the cue, "Oh, hello there, Sheriff, how are you?"

"Not bad, thanks." Teasle replies tightly, glancing between the man and I, "You know this guy?"

"Oh, yeah. John is a family friend." I lie, smiling brightly at the man in question.

"Yeah, it's been a long while, but I thought it was time to visit again." The man finally chips in, his husky voice stirring up butterflies in my stomach, "Wanted to keep my visit a surprise, though."

"Ah, well! You're here now, at least I can give you a lift back to mine." I offer him, ignoring Teasle's sceptical look.

Giving me a taut smile, which looks more like a grimace, the man steps towards me, shooting the Sheriff a glance as he goes. Doing the same, I smile pleasantly at Teasle, and say my goodbyes, climbing back into my car as my new passenger joins me, sliding cautiously into the seat beside me. Quickly, I pull back out into the traffic, heading away from Teasle as swiftly as possible.

"Thank you for doing that." The dark-haired man murmurs after a moment, his hands clenching around his knees as he forces himself to look out of the windscreen.

"No problem. Teasle's an ass at the best of times, best just to stay away from him." I muse, "Do you want something to eat? There's a good place just down the road from here."

Turning to face me, the man frowns and watches my face, as if for signs of deceit, his quiet nature giving me the impression that he's probably quite acclimatised to being treated as such.

"How do you know my name?" He eventually asks, voice quiet.

Now it's my turn to frown as I glance across at him.

"I don't."

"You called me John earlier. How did you know that's my name?"

Surprised, I double take, now realising how sketchy that must look.

"Your name is John? I had no idea! That's a lucky coincidence, clears up confusion later." I chuckle dryly, "Honestly, I picked the first name that came to mind. I had no idea that it's your actual name."

He watches me for a second longer, eventually appearing happy with my response, looking away again.

"What's your name?" He asks me after a further minute.

"Me? I'm (Y/n). (Y/n) (Y/l/n)."

"John Rambo." John nods, flicking some hair from his face, "And if you're still offering, I'd like to get something to eat, please."

"Of course."

Pulling up to the diner, I park the car, climbing out as I check the cash I have on me, deeming it enough for two decent meals and some drinks, hoping that it won't be too busy at this time of the day. John follows me, leaving his bedroll in the car as we walk into the small restaurant, finding a seat at one of the window booths, sitting opposite each other. He's quiet, scanning the room as soon as he's sat down, body stiff as he unzips his parka, revealing a red woolen jumper underneath. What strikes me most, however, (apart from the obvious planes of rippling muscle) are the silver dog tags hanging around his neck, jingling every so often as he moves.

A waiter comes over to us, handing us menus with a false smile, leaving us alone together again until we've ordered drinks, at which point he returns with the beverages. Stepping away again, John and I are left with some privacy. At this moment, I take a breath and ask him the one question on my mind.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you a soldier?"

John visibly stiffens, eyes hardening a little.

"I was." Is all he says, tone flat.

"Did you serve in Vietnam?" I ask, unable to stop myself as my curiosity gets the better of me.

Once again, John seems reluctant to answer, and instantly starts to glance around, clearly watching for an escape route.

"Yeah." He affirms, gaze returning to me.

Shock fills me at this: I'd heard horrible things about the Vietnam War, about how the soldiers (on both sides) faced terrifying situations that I'd never dream of, my heart stuttering at this admonition.

"Really? That's...wow, that's…" I go to say something, finding myself speechless as I stare at the man before me, admiring him now in a totally new light, "God, you must be a strong person."

He blinks.

"Huh?"

"Well, you've done what I'd never be able to do, you've faced deadly situations, you've probably been in harrowing conditions and fights, I'd never have the strength to do what you did. Very few people do, so you must be a very strong person, mentally." I tell him, still in shock, "You definitely did the country proud, and I respect you for everything you've done. Thank you for that."

He stares at me in shock, eyes wide, lips parted.

"You...What?" Is all he manages, voice hitching.

"I respect you, and admire your bravery. You're a better person than any of the rest of us ever could be." I repeat, smiling gently at him.

For a long moment, he doesn't say anything, his expression remaining as it is, his body tense as he processes what I've said, clearly not quite believing me.

"You...respect me?" He stammers, quietly.

"I do." I nod, taking a sip of my soda.

"Thank you." John murmurs, pulling a face as he looks away, "You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what kinda things I've done."

"What you did isn't relevant to me, only that you served the country, and you did it with bravery, so for that, you have my respect." I reassure him, telling him the truth.

John stays silent this time, apparently too overcome for words.

"Do you...do you need somewhere to stay?" I finally break the silence that has descended on us, tapping a rhythm out onto the table.

"No, but I don't want to inconvenience you any more than I already have, so don't worry about it. I'll figure something out." The veteran shrugs, still a little taken aback.

"You're not inconveniencing me, I wouldn't ask if you were. I have space in my house if you want to take it." I offer him, once again smiling across at him.

For the first time, John smiles at me, his features loosening as the expression crosses his face.

"I'll take it."

#sylvester stallone #rambo #sly stallone #john rambo #john rambo x reader #rambo imagine #rambo x reader

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astaroth1357 · 4 years ago

Text

The Demon Brothers (Minus Asmo) at Their Worst Pt. 1 (Lucifer, Mammon, Levi)

To the anons who gave me this idea, here it is. Unfortunately, I can’t say I’m all that happy to bring it to you, cause yikes this hurt to write. I’m grateful, however, because I believe I’m better for it. You shouldn’t always stay in your comfort zone. I left out Asmodeus for personal reasons. Regardless of my ability, given the nature of this challenge, I don’t feel comfortable with writing nor posting graphic content of sexual violence and chose to refrain from doing so. Please do not ask for this to be written at a later date, I will politely refuse then as I am now.

Check out the Masterlist for more.

Warnings: THEIR SINS HAVE BEEN TAKEN TO AN EXTREME (AND ALL THAT IMPLIES), Abusive/Controlling Relationships, Violence, Threat of Human Trafficking, Drowning, Angst, Regret, Suicidal Thoughts

This is all for the purposes of fantasy and in no way an endorsement for these behaviors in real life. Be nice (and smart) with your lives, my friends.

Intro: Maybe the MC should have known better. It should have sunk in a long time ago that they were in incredibly risky territory... They should have remembered that these men, though they call them friends, family, and perhaps even lovers, are still demons at their heart and core. Each of them are the embodiment of some of the worst behaviors man has to offer... MC, there are some people you just shouldn’t date, even if they love you, and now you suffer the consequences...

Lucifer

It’s not difficult to see how Pride can go awry. Self-confidence and dignity are wonderful things, but let them build up unchecked and all manner of petty, vindictive behavior can surface from within a person...

Lucifer is far from immune to these flare ups. In fact, he falls victim to them so often that they may as well be ingrained in his personality. If you do anything that mocks or belittles him, even if it’s small, you’ll get a reaction. One that’s usually more severe than offense calls for...

The MC knew this going into a relationship with him. Supposedly, they knew all the no-go zones, too. Don’t make fun of him or Diavolo, don’t mention the Fall or his back, don’t call him a nag... That sort of thing.

What they hadn’t expected was the full brunt of the expectations suddenly leveled on them.

To say Lucifer was demanding would be an understatement. Everything about him had to be poised, powerful, collected, and perfect. Whether he realized it or not, these expectations bled into their relationship as well.

It started with him nitpicking little details... The way they stood, how they styled their hair, maybe a comment or two on what they ate. But it progressively got worse...

Suddenly he found problems with the way they dressed, what they listened to, what shows they watched, even how they greeted him in the mornings!

Before too long, nothing was right to him… Nothing was good enough. They were his other half, his biggest vulnerability, and in order for him to feel secure about that they had to be perfect… However Lucifer defined it.

They listened to him at first. Though his comments stung, he could be so loving too… He truly made them feel special. Like he wouldn’t be trying so hard if it were anyone but them...

But pretty words and kind actions could only go so far. They couldn’t completely erase the vitriol being tossed at them day after day…

Slowly, with every little change, they could feel themselves start to dwindle… The choices they made felt foreign, the lifestyle they held became draining, and then one day they realized they didn’t even look right anymore… They were no longer the person they wanted to be.

Lucifer was doing what he set out to do: train them, break them, then mold them into something new... So they could be perfect...

Just like him.

One day, however, they just couldn’t take being the person he wanted anymore...

He found them in their bedroom just before a party that Diavolo had been planning for weeks. Their hair wasn’t fixed and their clothes were a mess. His frustration nearly skyrocketed until he saw their face, vacant and broken, staring blankly straight ahead…

He couldn’t rouse them. They wouldn’t move no matter how much he shouted, threatened, or swore...

….they didn’t even budge when he begged…

His brothers eventually noticed something amiss and took them away. Their disgust with him was fairly evident… They probably would have tried something had he not been the strongest.

He had taken something wonderful and squashed it... Hurt someone he truly loved and ruined what they could have had to protect his damn ego…

Lilith, his brothers, and Satan especially… was everyone he tried to care for just bound to end up broken too…?

The MC’s recovery was slow. They had a lot of damage to repair and a whole new identity to build. He stayed out of it as much as he could, burying himself in work and seeing his brothers less and less...

He’d done enough damage to them anyway...

Mammon

The Greedy, Scummy Second-Born… Words to etch on his tombstone. Mammon had heard it all before from all angles: the demons above him, below him, hell even a passersby on the street would know his face and his laundry list of a rap sheet...

The one person who seemed to look past all that was MC.

He truly didn’t know what sort of karma he’d gained or luck he scored to have them in his life. They didn’t just see him at his best side, they made him want to fix his worst...

But that’s easier said than done, isn’t it?

The sad truth is Mammon is a gambler at heart. Oh he loves the money, the riches, fine things, and the bling but what else does he enjoy? The rush.

There’s nothing like that feeling of triumphant when the dice falls your way or the pure exhilaration of a close bet. When all cards are on the table and everything’s stacked against you, eking out that win can cause a head-rush better than any orgasm he’s ever had... The higher the stakes? The better the high.

But maybe he went a little too far…

It’s one thing to bet Grimm, he can make more of that in a night. It’s another to bet items, harder to replace but not impossible. People…? Well. If you want high stakes…

MC was actually with him that night when he made the “great” decision to bet his most valuable treasure on poker match. He was running out of Grimm and thought that the added risk would make him play better…

He thought wrong.

MC hadn’t been at the table at the time he made the deal, but they had come back just in time to see him get his ass handed to him. He lost. Spectacularly.

When the other demons there came over to encircle MC, it already felt like his world was crumbling down around him... The look of confusion, then hurt and betrayal in their eyes forever seared themselves into his memory.

“You bet me in a poker game?!”

It sounds almost comical, but he knew what the demons were planning to do to them wasn't. And just seeing the way his human’s wrist snapped when one of the men wrenched their arm from them confirmed it.

He wouldn’t let them get away with that. When the threats escalated to violence, he took his share of punches but in the end he was left standing.

The MC was furious. He had just whittled their entire existence down to a bargaining chip and one that he tossed away carelessly…

Yeah, he’s truly a scumbag, isn’t he?

They didn’t talk to him for quite a while, despite him begging for forgiveness. There was always a part of him that wondered why he even bothered… He had done it before, and in another gambling-induced high he would probably do it again…

They’d honestly be better off without him...

Leviathan

It’s, frankly, quite difficult to be the Avatar of Envy. Every day Levi feels uncomfortable in his own skin… Like he doesn’t measure up to this or that or like he’s not worthy of being in the meager position afforded to him. He preferred to hide himself away and try not to dwell on it… but then MC came along…

For once, he felt like he had something. Something truly special. Something one of a kind and like no other… He couldn’t point to any of his brothers and say that they had something better, hell, he couldn’t even point to Diavolo and say that he had a finer version.

No. He had them. The one, the only, MC. Better than all the rest. His only great accomplishment in his miserable, pathetic life...

… so why did they keep leaving him…?

It didn’t hurt that badly at first when they’d tell him they couldn’t go watch some new anime with him because they had other plans. Sometimes they’d go off shopping with Mammon or have lunch with Beel… That was fine. Understandable.

At least that’s what he’d tell himself.

After a while though, he started to feel lonely… rejected… Was he not good enough for them? Surely that had to be it, right?? A miserable shut-in otaku with someone like them? What a joke!

Any time he’d voice his insecurities, they’d always say the same things: “No, don’t be silly!” “I really do want to be with you.” “I love you, Levi. Don’t you believe me?”

No. He didn’t. With each passing hour spent away from him, time where he would get shafted for one of his brothers instead, he believed them less and less…

Soon all he heard was lies…

Something possessed him that day. MC had just missed their third live stream in a row in order to be with his brothers instead. Which one was it? It didn’t really matter. He felt the stinging pain of isolation all the same…

When the MC walked into his room they had no way of knowing that the festering hatred and inadequacy that had been stewing in him for months was about to spill over. His anger was so quick to spark and their human body too weak to resist...

It was only once he realized how long he had their head forced under the water of his aquarium that he finally let them up for air.

He was stepping over himself to apologize, stammering incoherently through his tears how he just lost control and didn’t know what came over him!

His brothers weren’t forgiving. Not in the slightest. Each of them seemed to want to beat him within an inch of his life and he didn’t blame them… If he could get away with it, he’d march himself into the sea and let it serve as his rightful prison…

His punishments were severe, but not unending, and soon he was back in his room again. Now he never leaves it and the MC is never allowed back in, even if they want to be.

He now, truly, doesn’t deserve them at all...

Link to Part Two: Satan, Beel, Belphie

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #ow ow ow ow ow #obey me scenarios #obey me headcanons #crap I have to reread this...#in for pain #sorry levi #went a little hard on you there

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screamingatanemptyroom · 4 years ago

Text

Please Fix the Story pt 22 - Sci Fi

New part is here! Just a few more in this world. Just realized that it's been about 1 year since I've started this story. Wow.

Masterpost linked here.

Enjoy!

____________________________

The school was greatly relieved to hear that I had made a Connection and was no longer a danger to myself and others. They immediately rescinded my suspension and "encouraged" me to resume training with my new partner as soon as possible. I found the quick 180 amusing, but didn't argue.

It took multiple video calls with Alaira’s father to reassure him that everything was okay, and a few more to prevent him from throwing a parade for Liam to thank him for matching his daughter. His tears of joy at the news was a complicated moment for me.

I had felt a deep sense of joy, but it was an emotion that didn’t belong to me... it belonged to Alaira. Watching him celebrate his daughter’s recovery felt hypocritical, knowing that in the world that I hadn’t taken over, his daughter hadn’t had a good end. She had died alone and afraid, her mind fragmented.

But there was no way to tell him that.

The mission completion status on my communication device had risen quickly from 1% to 42%. Liam and I spent every waking moment together, talking, joking, and learning about each other. We practiced making the connection with the Mech, powering and controlling it now a smooth, painless process. It was natural, coming as easily to me as breathing. Working with him felt less like learning with a new partner as gaining back a missing part of me.

I was happy.

But not everyone was glad to hear we had matched.

Shortly after our match was made public, Liam and I were walking down the hallway after class, and were forced to stop by a young, angry woman blocking our path.

“It’s a lie!” Princess Ilene glared at Liam as she faced us down. “William can’t be a real Connector! He’s always been just a useless waste. He's a stain on the royal family!”

Liam seemed unfazed by his sister’s cruel words, as if he were used to it. The lack of reaction and the implications behind it made me even angrier. I stepped forward, hiding him partly behind me, and smiled pleasantly. My expression and pleasant tone obviously confused the princess, who took a step back.

“Ilene, Ilene, there’s just so much wrong with what you said… I don’t even know where to begin!” I shrugged. “ But, correcting idiocy IS my calling in life, so let me give it a shot:”

Ilene’s face was red with rage, but I ignored her incoherent sputtering, holding up a finger.

“First, Liam is capable of making the connection. He just had a strong barrier. Obviously it isn't impossible, or he and I wouldn’t be matched. “ I held up a second finger. “Secondly, and more importantly: even if he COULDN’T make the connection, he still wouldn’t be useless. He’s a kind, wonderful person, and that’s more than you can say about most Guardians or Connectors… present company included.”

“ How dare…” Princess Ilene took a step back. “What are you trying to say?”

I blinked, shocked “Oh, was I not being obvious enough? I don’t like you. I think Liam is a much better human being than you, and find it pitiful that you try to derive your self worth from putting him down.”

Liam stepped forward, grabbing my hand. “It’s ok…”

“No, its not. You don’t deserve for people to call you trash.” I felt emotional, as if something deep inside me was trying to break free.

“It’s always been like this.” He shrugged, “I’m used to being alone.”

____________________________

“Friends, family?”

The man in front of me was smiling at my question, but the expression was so sad it made me want to cry.

“None.” He twisted his hands in his lap, looking away. “I’m supposed to be alone.”

“Why?”

“Supposedly that’s my fate.”

____________________________

“You are not trash.” I tightened my grip on Liam’s hand. “ and you’re not alone anymore.”

“I know.” He smiled, “Thanks.”

Princess Ilene spoke up, obviously tired of being ignored. “How dare you trample on Chris’s kindness and reject him for this tr…” She started to say the word “trash” but seeing my face, nervously trailed off and started again. “You don’t even know if you two have a high enough resonance match to ward off your mental degradation…!”

“We do. It’s gone.”

She paused, thrown by my matter of fact tone. “… But what if you’re a higher match with Chris…”

“Don’t care. I hate him.”

“… But…”

“You do bring up a good point, though.” I turned to Liam. “We should see what our resonance match rate is.”

He looked nervous. “What if it isn’t very high?”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re already partners. I’m just curious.” I grinned. “Plus, I’m pretty sure it’s really high, and I’d love to use that to shut people up.”

He chuckled at that. “If it means that much to you to rub it into people’s faces...”

“It does.”

We walked towards the match center, leaving Princess Ilene stunned into silence behind.

____________________________

Liam got more anxious the closer we got to the match center. “You promise you won’t break our partnership if our match score is low?”

“You know I wouldn’t do that.” I didn’t feel insulted at his questioning. I could feel his insecurity, the need for me to say out loud what he thought he knew. “Low or high, we’re partners. You’re stuck with me.”

“Good.” He sighed, grinning. “I like being stuck with you.”

Finally, we were facing the machine that had failed us both so many times. Irrationally, I felt a little nervous, the many prior failures of the past few weeks too fresh and painful to completely forget.

Liam stepped away from me, reaching out and placed his hands on the panel first.

“Unrecognized tester. Please let down your mental barrier to proceed with Match testing.”

I rubbed my forehead tiredly as the robotic rejection echoed loudly around the room; “I forgot your barrier is still around since it doesn’t effect me anymore.”

“Honestly, I had forgotten too.” He responded with a happy smile.

A crowd was starting to gather, curious at our actions. As more and more people realized what we were doing, I began hearing the whispering between them.

“Didn’t she go crazy?”

“...thought she couldn’t match?”

“He has a barrier? ...never could match.”

“I heard they already formed a connection.”

“Heard her dad is a general, spread the rumor of her matching so she wouldn’t get kicked out.”

“Isn’t she matched up with Chris?”

“Why are they here?”

I grabbed Liam’s hand again, feeling relieved when I felt his warm skin against my own. “Don’t listen to them.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” He stared straight at me, ignoring the hostile words and gazes of the crowd. “You’re beside me, and that’s all that matters.”

I squeezed his hand in my own. A strong desire welled up within me to be worthy of the trust he gave me. I wanted to show everyone what Liam could do, the bond we had... but of course it couldn't be too easy.

“We just have to figure out how to get your barrier down enough for the machine to read you." I glanced down at my hand that was still holding his. "I mean, I’m touching you now, right? There’s no barrier between us?”

He stared down at our clasped hands, his cheeks tinged pink. “Yes, I feel you. I mean, no, there’s no barrier.”

“Good!" I gestured to the pad with my free hand. "Then why don't you try again while we're still touching each other?”

He placed his hand back on the machine.

“Please let down your mental barrier to proceed with Match testing.” The machine's voice repeated itself calmly.

His hand fell away, frustrated. I could feel his anxiety, and worried deep down that I had made a wrong choice. I did this to reassure him that we are a good match. To shut up everyone saying that it's a made up story to justify the removal of my suspension. To prove to everyone that Liam isn't useless, even by their own stupid standards.

But none of this will happen if he can't use the machine.

I thought it over, and grinned as I came up with a plan. “Hmm… Well, there’s one other thing we can try…”

I leaned in and kissed him, grabbing his free hand with my own and placing it on the pad together. His breath caught in his chest and he froze in shock very briefly before kissing back. In that moment I almost forgot why I had kissed him in the first place, but the robotic voice quickly reminded me.

“Resonance match detected…. Scanning…. Resonance Frequency Match...100%.”

The voice had barely faded before there were shouts of shock from the crowd. The room descended into chaos at the announcement. I broke away from Liam, who was still distracted, and stared at him.

“Did that machine just say… we are a 100 PERCENT match? I didn’t even think that was possible!”

Liam blinked. “I’m sorry, I dinwhat did you say?”

“We’re a perfect match, Liam.” I laughed. “I knew this was a great idea!”

Definitely didn't completely doubt the plan halfway through... yep.

“So… no one can separate us then?” His body relaxed, and he reached out, pulling me against himself and hugging me tightly. I felt the trembling of his muscles and knew that the anxiety he had shown was only the tip of the iceberg. His true fears and insecurities were still well hidden, even from me.

I hugged him back, waiting for him to back away. The crowd’s murmuring were now a loud roar, as everyone discussed a match rate that most thought impossible to achieve. And there, in the back of the crowd, I saw a solitary figure standing there, watching us with a blank stare.

Chris.

I shuddered, holding Liam tighter. The first thing I had done when Liam and I announced our match was to report to the authorities Chris holding me in his room. I suspected him of drugging me as well, remembering the prick of the needle before falling unconscious.

I was laughed at.

“Why would a student with a crystal clear reputation go out of his way to kidnap a general’s daughter? He already had a match, a better one than his resonance with you if I recall. If anyone had motive to kidnap someone, it would be you to him!”

The words were cutting, made worse by the pity on their faces.

“It’s obvious: your mind was breaking down due to the strain without a Connector, and came up with this fantastical plot of being kidnapped.”

And despite my objections, the claim was dropped. I hadn’t seen Chris since the day we parted in his room.

Until now.

His gaze held mine. He was expressionless, watching us with a detached, almost clinical air. I would have almost thought he was bored, or at least uncaring about the situation in front of him… if not for his eyes…

His eyes were burning with rage.

I looked away first feeling an odd sense of familiarity, as if something similar had happened before.

____________________________

A few days later Liam and I had our first mock battle. Suspended together in the Connection chamber within the Mech, the constant physical and mental connection with Liam made operating the Mech much easier than it ever had been alone.

I fought with a sword, having abandoned the dual guns completely. I breathed a sigh of relief at the speed I could move at as I ducked under the enemy Mech’s attack. Turning with the spin of my dodge, I used the momentum and I swung around to slash the torso of our opponent with the sword.

“Nice hit!” Liam’s voice in my headset was excited. He was cheering me on along the way, spurring me to show off with more complex moves when possible, hoping to impress him.

I pressed the attack, slamming the Mech with the shoulder of ours, and kicking it to the ground before it could recover its balance. The movements were smooth, and my head was clear of any pain. The prior drain and discomfort of controlling the giant robot was completely gone.

As our opponent fell to the ground, I pressed the tip of the sword into the Mech’s neck. The referee called out our victory, and the crowd around the arena cheered, but it was just noise to me. All that mattered was Liam’s excited babbling in my ear.

“That was awesome! I’ve always wondered what it felt like to win a Mech fight, and it’s so much cooler than I ever imagined! This is great! When can we fight again?”

“Glad you had fun, Liam.” I laughed at the innocent delight in his voice. After the stress and pain I had experienced since waking up in this world, the uncertainty of who I was and why I was here, there was something simple and healing about being by Liam’s side.

I feel happy.

I was nervous about admitting it, even to myself, as if the simple acknowledgement of the positive emotion would be enough to destroy it. But I couldn’t deny it. I WAS happy.

After we had undocked and changed, Liam and I relaxed in the fighter’s lounge. Liam as always, had a container that he pulled out of a bag, opening it to reveal a slice of cake. I took it from him with a murmur of thanks, and after the first bite sighed with joy.

“I've been meaning to ask you: Where do you get this cake? It's obviously not from the school shop, it’s way too good!”

Liam smiled at the question. “I made it myself.” Usually more quiet and shy, he seemed very confident when it came to matters such as food. The change in his attitude was something I loved to see.

“Really? You made it? This is too delicious… if only I could have this all the time.” I took another bite, savoring it. As I swallowed, I looked up at him and joked. "Yep, I think the only solution would be for me to just marry you.”

“…” There was a strange silence in the room. I ate some more cake, unconcerned at first, but as the awkward stillness stretched on I paused in my actions, turning towards Liam again with a questioning look.

His face was bright red, and he stared at me with a look of shock and joy.

“Liam?”

He nodded, and blushing more, pulled out his communication device, dialing a number.

“Who are you calling…?”

Alaira’s father, General Gladus showed up on the holographic projection from his device. He stared at Liam, confused for a moment, before barking out with a frown. “Who is this?”

Liam sat up straight, staring at the man with a solemn expression. “General Gladus, my name is William. I am the third born of the Royal family, and a first year student at the academy, and a Level S Connector.”

General Gladus grinned. “I know who you are, son. You’re the wonderful young man who matched with my daughter. I’ve been wanting to talk with you and thank you…”

“Your daughter has asked me to marry her and I have agreed.”

“What?”

My father and I asked in unison.

“I was very happy to receive your daughter’s offer of marriage. I will do my very best to support her in all her endeavors.”

“She proposed?”

I silently mouthed an echoing question as my father burst out loudly. “I proposed?”

Liam nodded. “I wanted to let you know so that you could arrange for military leave and be present for our wedding. I know the paperwork can take weeks to months. ”

“…” General Gladus looked stunned. Slowly, his hologram turned towed me. “Alaira, is this true?”

"Yeah, military leave paperwork is notoriously slow..."

He interrupted. "No I mean about the engagement!"

I glanced over at Liam’s excited face.

____________________________

“I don’t believe it’s real.” He whispered, staring down at our hands that were clasped together. “I thought that I was always going to be alone. I thought my fate… my role… ”

I fiddled with the silver band in my hand, trying it on his finger. “Screw fate. We’re getting married now.”

“Yeah.” He grinned, the smile lighting up his face, making the whole room brighter. “Screw fate. I’m your husband!”

____________________________

I shrugged. “What can I say? We’re a destined couple.” I briefly explained about our 100% resonance match.

“… Did you say 100% match?” At my nod, General Gladus opened up his arms. “Welcome to family! When's the wedding?”

After a few more minutes of discussion, Liam hung up, still looking happy.

“Should we notify your parents?”

His face froze. When his gaze finally rose to met mine I shrunk back from the dull look I saw there.

“No reason to.” He reached out, tucking back my hair. “A family without love is just blood related acquaintances. You’re my real family, wife.”

I hugged him again. “That’s right. I’m your family.” I hadn’t really meant to propose… it was just a joke. But the second he called me wife, my heart had felt a sense of recognition. It was happy, but also hurt, a deep remembered pain. A panicked feeling rose up within me, as fear, despair and sadness came in waves, before leaving quickly, overwhelming me without warning or reason. I desperately wanted to remember something, to tear open the fog clouding my brain and peer at what was hidden behind it. But I couldn't.

You must accept your fate. A metallic voice rang in my head, cold, dispassionate, filled with undeniable.

“No.” I whispered, tears filling my eyes even if I wasn’t sure why they were there.

Liam noticed my distress. “Alaira?”

“I'm fine." I think we should go back to practice.” I pulled him to his feet. “We’ll talk more about this later.”

“You’re right, let’s continue working hard so we can save the world like you wanted. But on our next break, we have a wedding to plan!” For the first time, Liam was more excited than me to get to practice. He grabbed my hand and raced forward.

____________________________

Later that night, I went back to my dorm room, still thinking over my last conversation with Liam. He was energetically talking about wedding plans, making lists and drawings with the hologram on his communicator, storing them in special file with my name on it.

When I asked him why he was so excited, he paused, staring down at his hands. “Have you ever felt a desire that was so strong, it seemed to be beyond anything you’ve experienced before?” He glanced up. “I feel this, Alaira. Deep in my soul. I want to be by your side. I want to marry you, but even if you didn’t want that, I’d be your minion or your sidekick. Being by you… helping you… it’s such an integral part of myself, I couldn’t separate from it if I tried.”

“Liam…”

“I think I believe in reincarnation and soul mates.” He smiled. “I’m so happy right now that I think this has to be a hallucination, it can’t be real.”

“I don’t believe it’s real.” I felt the memory of the young man’s whisper in my head again, and pushing it back, I leaned forward to kiss Liam gently.

“It’s real.”

Now alone in my room, I couldn’t help but feel bewildered by the connection with Liam, the emotions and memories that accompanied every moment with him.

“Who am I?” I leaned against the wall and whispered to myself.

“That is the question isn’t it?”

At the unexpected answer I straightened up, falling into a defensive stance. Recognizing the intruder did not make relax, however. If anything it made me more tense.

“Chris. What are you doing here?” I kept my voice calm, trying to hide my inner tension.

“I’m getting tired, Bel.” He sat down on my bed and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m just… so tired of all this.”

“What did you call me?” The name resonated with me, much more than “Alaira” ever had.

He ignored me. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to give up right away. It promised me…”

The room fell into silence. I stood as still as a statue, barely daring to breathe. I was desperate to hear more, terrified to let him continue speaking. Chris’s voice was different, his tone filled with years of regret. His eyes when they stared at me, seemed to look right through me, as if seeing through my skin to something deeper and more profound.

“Why can’t you just accept your fate, Bel?” He sighed, the sound seeming to drag on too long. “Everything depends on it.”

“What do you…?”

“The lower realms you treasure… the friends you’ve made… even…” He hesitated. “Even his existence depends on everyone having their role and playing their part.”

“I don’t understand what you mean, Chris.”

“MY NAME ISN’T CHRIS!” He yelled, the sound startling in the otherwise silent room. “Just like yours isn’t Alaira. Just like his… it wasn’t supposed to be…”

“Liam?”

”THAT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE HIS NAME!” Chris, or whoever he was, stood up, his face red with rage. “He corrupted it! He refused his role, and ended up tricking you to do the same.” He stepped closer. “Why do you always force me to be the one who has to carry the weight of the realms on my shoulders? Why does he get to be the only one who is happy? I don’t want to play these games anymore, Bel.”

“I’m not playing games!” I shouted back, frustrated. “I don’t remember anything!”

“And you won’t. Not until it’s over. But it will be soon. Because I’m going to end it.” He walked towards the door, preparing to leave, only stopping when I grabbed his arm.

“No. You aren’t leaving until you explain what you meant.”

His eyes lit up briefly at our contact, and I pulled my hand away quickly. “You made a bet, Bel, and these are rules you can’t escape. All it takes is one failed mission. One failure before you can finish the task of piecing together your soul.”

“Piecing together…?” His words struck a chord within me, but I shook my head. “I may not understand anything going on, but I’ll tell you this: I won’t fail my mission.”

The light is his eyes dimmed. “You started this. Just remember that, when you regret everything. You. Started. This.”

He left through room, slamming the door behind him. I stood in place, staring blankly, my mind racing.

Realms, real names, missions and bets… I don’t understand any of it.

But I knew one thing, as certainly as if it were imprinted on my soul.

I would not accept my fate.

Even if I couldn’t remember what that fate was.

Even if I had to destroy fate itself to escape it.

#writing #please fix the story #sci fi #lost memories #a little more liam #plot for the sci world about the speed up.

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

Text

15x20

Spoilers for Season 15x20 finale

Summary: This is a semi-rewrite of episode 15x20...

Pairing: Dean x reader (reader is treated more like an OC than a typical reader)

Word Count: 2,000ish

Warnings: language, major 15x20 spoilers

A/N: I wrote this for myself honestly. I know it is idealistic and was never going to happen. Again, I’m sharing simply if you’re interested but please feel free to ignore. This picks up from a very obvious point in the episode...

______

Dean POV

“Fuck,” said Dean, his hand over his chest. Something big was stabbing into his back. This felt wrong though. A dull, achy pain trickled up and down his spine and across his chest. His heart was racing up and slowing down when it wanted and Dean shut his eyes as he recognized the feeling in his bones.

He was dying. The kind of dying a doctor can’t fix.

“Jack!” shouted Sam, Dean peeling open his eyes as he realized Sam was besides him, hand covered in blood. A few seconds later Jack appeared in front of them eating a bar of nougat. “Jack fix him. Please.”

“He said he was hands off,” said Dean with a wince, his whole body shaking. Jack cocked his head and walked over, touching Dean’s forehead. The next thing he knew, Dean was sat on the ground and taking a deep breath, the pain gone as he looked up. “You said you were hands off.”

“You’re my dads. Why wouldn’t I help you?” he asked, a confused look on his face. Dean chuckled and nodded, still holding onto his chest. “You seem upset. I’ll pop you guys home.”

“Kid there’s-”

“Those boys are okay,” said Jack, snapping his fingers. Dean was suddenly sat on the steps up into the library, Jack mentioning something about taking some nougat from the pantry before he headed out.

“You alright?” asked Sam. Dean shook his head and he took a seat. Dean rubbed the heel of his palm against his chest and shuddered. “Jack got there in time.”

“If he hadn’t-”

“Dean-”

“If he hadn’t...because it was bad, Sammy. If he hadn’t...I’m so proud of you and I love you, so fucking much. I couldn’t have asked for a better baby brother, a better best friend. You just gotta tell me something. When the time comes, you’ll be okay without me. Tell me Sam. Please.”

“I’ll be okay,” said Sam quietly. Dean nodded and moved his hand to his lap, Sam scooting closer. “Let’s get out of here.”

“What?”

“Let’s get a house. We can get a big yard for Miracle. Run an operation like Bobby did, do the occasional case. Let’s go live more,” said Sam. Dean paused but rubbed his chest again and smiled.

“Dibs on the master bedroom,” said Dean. Sam chuckled and nodded. “Yeah. This place is home but I wouldn’t mind an upgrade.”

Two Months Later

“Miracle!” called Dean when he ignored the ball Dean had just thrown across the yard and ran around the corner of the house. “Miracle!”

“I think your daddy’s looking for you,” Dean heard a voice giggle. He walked around the house and saw a woman knelt down and ruffling the dog. “You’re so cute. You’re so cute.”

“Yes, I am,” smirked Dean as the woman popped her head up. “So, how can I help you and why are you parked in my driveway?”

“I’m Y/N. Y/N-”

“I heard of you. Hunter out of Alaska right?” he asked as she nodded. “You work a lot of Canada cases.”

“I did,” she said with a shrug. “I was thinking of retiring down south. Wondering if you got any tips on how to adjust.”

“A dog helps,” he said and she smiled, Dean looking her up and down. “You do realize this is Austin, Texas right?”

“This is south to me,” she said. “I know Donna through a friend of a friend. She said it’d be cool if I came and talked to you?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” said Dean, Miracle running over to the ball and rushing back with it. He nudged Dean’s hand and Y/N smiled. “You mind chatting while we do some fetch?”

“Not at all, Winchester.”

“Kinda funny how Eileen and Y/N know each other,” said Sam, Dean looking out the back window to where the girls and Miracle were sat on the back deck after dinner drinking a beer. Dean hummed and dried a plate, Sam nudging his arm. “You like her, don’t you.”

“You like her.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah, I like her. What’s the big deal?”

“Oh, I don’t know. A gorgeous, former hunter with your kind of humor, love for pie, muscle cars and classic rock that’s single just happens to have stuck around long after she got done talking to you.”

“I invited her to dinner.”

“She understands the life Dean. All the shit we carry. You’ve never tried with a hunter. Give her a chance.”

“Tried what?” said Dean, putting the plate in the cupboard.

“You can have a relationship Dean. I’m pretty sure she likes you too,” said Sam.

“Hello, Dean,” said Castiel, both guys jumping as they spun around. They stared at the angel as Cas looked around. “I enjoy your home. The air is fragrant.”

“It’s a candle,” said Sam, pointing to the flickering light on the countertop. He blew it out and Dean walked around the island, shaking his head.

“Where the fuck have you been?” said Dean, giving Cas a hug. Sam joined them and Castiel shrugged.

“Rebuilding heaven is labor intensive process,” said Cas before turning to Dean. “I felt you would be coming there soon a few months ago.”

“Why didn’t you pop down when you knew he was dying?” asked Sam.

“You are humans,” said Cas with a pout. “You will die someday. It’s an inevitable fact. Time is very strange in heaven in its relation to earth. I assumed you were an old man.”

“No, not old,” said Dean.

“Would you two like for me to prevent your deaths until a certain age?” asked Cas.

“No,” they both said, Dean smiling.

“But if we ask for help, you will help?” asked Dean.

“Always,” said Castiel. He tilted his head and looked out the back window. “Who is the woman with Eileen?”

“Y/N. Hunter from the Yukon area. Dean has a crush,” said Sam. He smirked when Dean whacked his arm, Cas still cocking his head. “You know her?”

“She’s quite drawn to Dean. Metaphysically speaking.”

“Yes cause whatever you just said was very clear. Like I’m five Cas,” said Dean. Cas sighed and pursed his lips.

“Jack has given me some extra power to help assist him better. I can see more of a person now,” said Cas. “Their energy, soul, things of that nature.”

“Okay...so what does that mean?” asked Dean.

“Oh your souls are quite intertwined. She’s your soulmate,” said Cas.

“Really?” said Dean, allowing a brief smile to cross his face.

“She also has a growing inoperable mass in her head that will kill her in the next few years. She suffers from headaches quite frequently,” said Cas. Dean sat down at the counter and stared out the back door, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Why can’t I be happy?” he breathed out. “For a fucking minute I can’t even be happy before the rug gets pulled out.”

“...Did you not want me to heal her?” asked Cas. Dean rolled his eyes and Cas’ glowed blue for a moment. “She’s fine now. You seem...emotional.”

“Well I am Cas,” said Dean.

“You’ve been off since that hunt and the barn,” said Sam.

“Sam I shouldn’t be alive,” said Dean. “I got lucky.”

“You have sacrificed your entire life for others, Dean,” said Cas, Sam taking a seat next to Dean. “You should take advantage of your powerful friends. Let others care for you now. I will speak to Jack about the remaining monsters and their relocation to somewhere better suited for them, perhaps a new world.”

“Everything alright?” asked Y/N, slipping in through the back door with an empty beer bottle.

“Yeah, we’re all good,” said Sam.

“Liar,” she said, smiling at Dean. “I’ll be right back.”

She excused herself to the bathroom, Sam and Cas going outside. Dean got another set of beers out just in time for Y/N to return.

“Can I ask you a question?” she said.

“Shoot,” said Dean, handing her the drink.

“Your friend, the angel, did he just heal me? I’ve had constant headaches for awhile now. Brain tumor. I feel different. You guys wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that would you?”

“You deserve to enjoy your retirement,” he said. “A very long retirement. You’re fine now.”

“I won’t be mad about that,” she said, leaning against the counter by him. She took a long sip and smiled. “I like you, Dean.”

“I like you,” he said.

“I’m gonna stick around town for a bit, see if things work out,” she said. He nodded and smiled, watching her smirk. “So there’s really no more monsters?”

“Uh, what?”

“I overheard Castiel when I walked in. Guess we’re really out of jobs now,” you said.

“I got an offer for a construction manager,” he said.

“You gonna take it?” she asked.

“I think so. What do you think?” he asked.

“I think it’s a great idea,” she said. “Gotta keep busy somehow.”

“What’s your retirement look like?” he asked. She shrugged and smiled. “Now that death isn’t imminent.”

“Maybe I’ll find a guy, try the domestic thing,” she said, a soft smile staying on her lips. “Know anyone who might be interested?”

“I’m sure I can think of someone, sweetheart.”

One Year Later

“So what do you think?” asked Sam as he spun around in his suit in the family room.

“What do we think junior?” asked Dean, the baby on his lap clapping his hands. “He says dad’s gonna score tonight.”

“I fear for you teaching my son things when he’s a teenager,” chuckled Sam.

“That’s what Uncles are for,” said Dean as Y/N got up from the couch and started fixing Sam’s tie.

“And what Aunt’s are for to rein them in,” she said, smoothing it out.

“Thank you,” said Sam. “Hey, when you two gonna have a kid?”

“Who says we aren’t?” smirked Dean. Sam went wide eyed and she rolled hers.

“We’re trying just recently. You will literally be the first to know once we do,” she said. She winked and Sam narrowed his eyes, looking back and forth between them then down to her stomach.

“You’re so pregnant.”

“Ugh, we were gonna surprise you guys. Let us surprise, Eileen at least,” she said.

“You guys are pregnant!” said Eileen from over the balcony upstairs. Y/N laughed and headed up, Sam taking a seat next to Dean and plucking his son into his arms.

“You’re gonna be a real good dad. You got a lot of practice,” said Sam. Dean shrugged and Sam gave him a side hug. “I’m really happy he gets to know his Uncle, Dean. You’re gonna do great.”

“I’m really happy I get to be here too,” said Dean. He sat back and shut his eyes. “I owe you one.”

“For what?”

“The barn. I thought Jack wouldn’t come. I didn’t even bother. I thought that was gonna be it,” said Dean. “I didn’t want to go yet.”

“You don’t owe me for that,” said Sam, handing the baby back when he heard feet on the stairs. “Be good for Uncle Dean, baby boy.”

“Go have fun on your date, Sammy,” said Dean.

“You have fun on your stay at home date,” chuckled Sam. “See ya later, De.”

“Later, Sammy.”

_________

#spn #spn spoilers #dontspoilthefinalhunt #spn season 15 spoilers #supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural dean winchester #supernatural sam winchester #one shot

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