#Eyeball Chambers x sister!reader

[writinginatree]

Ace Merrill x female!Chambers!reader - Tell Me

Summary: When your brother's best friend wants to know what's gotten you so upset you have no choice but reveal what the girls that keep giving your trouble have found out about. Ace's reaction to your crush is not what you expected.

Warnings: Small injury, it's kinda implied that reader gets bullied, language

"What did you do to your hand?"

You glanced at your brother who stood beside you, smoking, and quickly pulled down your sleeve to hide the injury.

The knuckle of your little finger was badly swollen, and when you opened your palm with the fingers stretched, it stood out white against your bruised flesh, much further back than it should have been compared to your other hand. If it hadn't been for the fact that it barely hurt you would have thought your knuckle was dislocated.

"Nothin'."

Eyeball saw right through your lie. "Please tell me you didn't punch a wall again," he groaned.

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you that."

An exasperated sigh from your twin caused you to add, "In my defense, it was an accident this time. I was aiming for a cheerleader's face, but she ducked away faster than I thought."

You almost wished you'd punched the wall out of anger as you sometimes did. If you had you wouldn't have struck it at such an unfortunate angle, and your knuckle would be fine. Well... maybe. After all the wall was rather hard either way.

"What is it with you and those cheerleaders? What did this one do now?!"

"She was making fun of me!"

"Great, and now she can make fun of you for managing to hit the wall instead of her. Good job!"

You crossed your arms over your chest and pouted. "She'll want to think twice about that. I broke her nose with the second punch, and if she keeps talking shit I'll gladly make it worse."

"What did she make fun of you for, anyway?"

You sighed. "The usual. Except worse cause those bitches somehow found out about my crush on Ace. Or maybe it was just a shot in the dark to see how I'd react, but..."

"...but now they definitely know for sure," Eyeball finished your sentence. He sighed. "Are you gonna tell him now, before he finds out from them?"

"I dunno, Richie. He probably doesn't feel the same, and it would just make things awkward between us. It's not like he'd believe them if they start spreading rumors."

They were probably doing so at this very moment, sitting at lunch with their little friends and pretentious boyfriends.

You wondered where Ace might be. Not in the cafeteria, that was for sure, so you didn't have to worry about him finding out just yet.

"You sure about that?" Richie asked, and for a second you wondered if he'd read your mind. Then you remembered what you'd said.

"What, do you think he'd believe them over me if I deny it?!"

Eyeball shrugged. "I dunno. I'm just saying you're not exactly a good liar when it comes to stuff you're emotional about. And a crush is like the very definition of emotional."

You stopped pacing back and forth—when had you started doing that, anyway? You couldn't recall—, and sat down in the grass, burying your face in your hands with a frustrated sigh. "I know. God, this is so fucking stupid!"

"What is?"

Your head snapped up, your eyes meeting those of the person responsible for your current dilemma.

"Hi Ace."

You awkwardly smiled up at him.

How long had he been there? Had he heard what you and Richie had been talking about?

"Hey. What's got you so upset?"

Seemed like he hadn't. Thank god.

"'m not upset."

He crouched down next to you, and scoffed. "Sure you ain't. Is it those stupid cheerleaders again?"

You nodded and hoped that would be the end of it, but Ace reached for your hand, inspecting your injury.

"Got you pretty riled up this time, huh? You punch a wall or one of them?"

You couldn't answer at first, too focused on the fact that he was holding your hand. His skin was pleasantly warm against your own—your hands were cold, as usually, except for your swollen knuckle, which was sickly hot—and you felt the rough calluses on them.

"Both, actually," you finally managed. "First the wall, then the cheerleader."

Ace laughed and finally let go of your hand. "Damn. What did she say to make you that angry?"

You shook your head. "Never mind."

"C'mon."

"No, never mind. It's nothin', Ace. Just let it go."

"Yeah, I don't think so. If it got you this upset it clearly isn't nothing. C'mon, if you tell me what it is I'll help you beat her up some more."

Despite everything he got a little smile out of you with that. "Tempting, but I already handled her."

"Ah. So there is something you could tell me. I wanna know what that bitch said to you, Y/N, and I won't leave you alone until you tell me."

Damn it, why did he have to be so fucking stubborn?!

You looked to your brother for help, but instead of helping you he gave you a look that screamed Tell him! and walked away without a word. Fucking traitor.

Ace put a hand under your chin, making you look back at him.

"What did she say to you?"

"The usual shit 'bout my family."

"You're used to that, doll. Those bitches don't know shit, and you know it. There must have been something else that's bothering you so much. Isn't there?"

"Maybe..."

"Won't you tell me? Please?"

"I don't know, Ace... It's not... She– She just took a guess at something and happened to be right. It's not something I wanna talk about."

"No? Then you can be sure she is gonna talk about it."

"I know..."

"Then why don't you just tell me? I don't wanna be the last one to find out."

Good point. At this time tomorrow the whole school would know about your crush on Ace thanks to those cheerleaders...

"I guess I should..."

"Go on then. It can't be that bad."

"Okay. But– But you have to promise me you won't laugh."

"Of course not. I'd never laugh at you, doll."

"Okay. Okay, so, the thing is... I, uh... I might have a bit of a crush on you. Perhaps." You paused, and decided you shouldn't downplay it like that. As far as the cheerleaders were concerned, and everyone they would doubtlessly be spreading rumors to, it wasn't more than that—couldn't possibly be more than that, because people like you had black holes for hearts and didn't even know how to spell 'love', let alone how it felt,—but Ace deserved to know the truth, even if you weren't sure if he'd appreciate it. "No, actually– actually it's more than just a bit of a crush. I love you. And– and I don't expect– You– You don't have to say anything..."

You couldn't stand to look him in the face, so you didn't know what Ace was thinking, but at least he wasn't laughing at you.

The silence seemed to stretch forever, until Ace finally spoke.

"Wow. That's not what I was expecting when you told me not to laugh."

You shrugged, still looking at the ground instead of at him.

You heard him sigh, and prepared for the rejection that was sure to follow. You were sure he was just trying to find the right words to turn you down without hurting your feelings too much. You were friends. You couldn't possibly hope for more than that. Ace didn't do love, only one night stands, and that was the last thing you wanted. Rejection was inevitable.

"Listen, doll, I'm not exactly the relationship type–"

"I know. That's why I didn't say anything. I don't expect you to feel the same. You don't do feelings. That's fine. Please just forget it, okay? I just told you so you wouldn't have to find out from those fucking cheerleaders."

"Would you please let me finish my sentence, Sweetheart?" His voice lacked the sarcasm it usually held when he called you that, and though the annoyance was there, it was softened by a fondness you'd never heard from him before. "I ain't never gone steady with a girl, but you're special. I like you, Y/N, and I wanna give it a try. Give us a try. I don't know if it's love, but–" He shrugged. "There's something about you. I think it'd be nice if you were my girl. If you'll give me a chance."

If you would give him a chance? Good god, he made it sound as if you hadn't just confessed your love to him, as if he was the one whose heart was beating so fast it surely was going to leap out of their chest any second.

"Of course I'll give you a chance you dork. There's nothing I'd love more than to be your girl."

Your eyes met his, and despite the always-present confident smirk you noticed the vulnerability hidden just underneath. He'd said he didn't know if it was love, but there were feelings between you, that was for sure.

"Are you sure? I certainly ain't the ideal boyfriend. I'll try my best, but..." Again he trailed off and shrugged.

You knew what he meant.

Having known Ace pretty much your whole life you knew him in and out, knew all about his many escapades with various girls—all of which ended up heartbroken because unlike them, Ace hadn't been looking for love, but only a good fuck. You knew he could be difficult. Arrogant. Reckless. Mean.

But you'd also seen his good sides, and in your eyes those outweighed the bad by far.

He was loyal, to his friends, his gang—including you—,and you believed he was capable of being a faithful boyfriend if he bothered to try. He could be caring when he wanted to, you'd seen it when Eyeball or you were hurt. Protective, too. And, maybe the most important of all, he never ever got violet with the people he cared about, no matter how angry he was.

So no, Ace was by no means perfect, but maybe that very fact made him the perfect match for you, because neither were you.

You smiled at him. "Don't worry, I wouldn't expect you to change. I love you just the way you are, crimes, flaws and all. Well... there is one thing. If you really want me there can't be any other girls."

Ace chuckled. "Yeah, I figured. I'd never cheat on you, don't worry. If, uh, if you catch me flirting with someone, out of habit, you know, you have my permission to punch my shoulder."

"Deal. Now... Can I get a kiss?"

Ace pulled you close with arm around your waist. "Mhm. You're my girl now; you can have all the kisses you want."

"–but not when I'm watching!"

Richie. Of course that asshole had to come back at the most inconvenient moment possible.

"Look away then!" you said, and pressed your lip's against Ace's without waiting to see if your brother would comply.

At this time tomorrow the whole school would know about your crush on Ace. But they could gossip all they wanted to. Ace was your boyfriend now, not just your crush, and you would make sure everyone learned about that, too. Then they'd really have something to talk about.

[sebastianswallows]

Dreamed of you

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit sister is sent to kill Feyd. She hesitates as she watches him sleep, all the way until he wakes up and catches her.

— WARNINGS: none, just reader simping for one cute boy

— WORDCOUNT: 1k

— A/N: First of all, this isn't necessarily movie!Feyd, it's more based on the books, but I love him in all his forms. I wrote this in a bout of madness this evening, and it's just a love letter to how beautiful and soft and sad Feyd canonically is. That is all.

A shadow in the corner moved. The door shut behind her with a hiss. Outside, the chanting of his name resounded like a distant wave. Feyd. A myriad of emotions raged inside the way that sylphic syllable was said. So mangled and intense were they that she could hardly tell, even after weeks of being on Giedi Prime, if the feeling in their voices was that of fear, or love.

He had won another battle in the arena tonight. Half-fight, half-play, all a spectacle of violence kept elegant and grim with the flourished motions of his blades in inky black and white. The celebrations were kept modest afterwards. This was no birthday.

His chambers smelled of sweet sweat and bitter blood. It filled her lungs as soon as she stepped in. He slept now, quietly, in a surprisingly small bed. As she approached him, dagger in hand, she realised it was not so small — he just took little space on it.

He slept huddled to one side, his body curled within the black sheets as if he were in a womb.

The na-Baron was an arresting sight, like a work of art left interrupted. His marble-white arms hugged a pillow to his chest, and from beneath a curve of silk draped over him, the corner of a knee peeked through. The soft line of his eyes revealed a dour bend in sleep, delicate dark lashes resting like butterfly wings on his cheeks. His full lips, decadent and lustful, were pulled into a pout. She wondered what he was dreaming of.

Beneath this impressive amalgam of his features, from the dainty to the sultry to the broad shoulders and strong arms, he was just a little boy. Motherless and far from home, preyed on by his uncle, worshipped by a distant crowd. Useless, now that the Atreides line had ended and a child had been secured from him by Lady Fenring.

The Kwisatz Haderach would have to be reached through other means, and from a bloodline less volatile than that of the Harkonnens. They had proved uncooperative, hostile — the Baron, his nephews, even Lady Jessica. Born to be an asset, they made themselves a threat. That was why Feyd-Rautha had to die.

She stood over his black bed.

The guards outside were dealt with, the courtiers were asleep, and the drunk and maddened crowd outside would not realise what happened until it was too late. This was the result of years of planning, months of preparation, and weeks spent on that polluted planet pretending to be one of the new interrogation trainers.

Torturing was not her forté, but there were worse fates than cutting men’s tendons clean or gouging out their eyeballs. All the “noble” prisoners were already long dead before she got there. Failed Harkonnens was all that was left. And all men bled the same.

She stood over his black bed with a knife.

“He must die,” she thought to herself, an angry frown blooming on her brow. Her body was already rebelling. “The Reverend Mother demands it. He must die.”

She stood over his black bed with a knife. And faltered.

The blade shone silver in the low electric light, hanging like a teardrop from her fist. Her body refused to move.

Should she really kill him now? Perhaps she should wait for him to turn on his back. What would it hurt to look at him a second more, just another, and another…? He was a good fighter, no matter the arrangements of the arena. Would it not be ignoble to slay him this way? Generations of genetic planning had culminated in him, and to let it all go now...

Her mind’s motions, the fleshy resistance, it all came to nothing in an instant, blown away like snowflakes on the sand. There was a change in the air all around them, a stillness where unconsciousness was before, a presence, like a horn blown through a storm in the lighthouses of old, sounds swallowed by sounds, an impact of cells in the air blooming into a single point of light. Feyd-Rautha opened his eyes.

She only caught the hint of an impish smile before she backed away as quickly as an indrawn breath. Her back hit the door and her hand scrambled for the handle, but he was upon her with the same speed he applied in his gladiatorial fights.

How could she have missed the signs that he had woken? Had his breathing even changed?

“Got you now,” he purred against her cheek, “Bene Gesserit.”

She bit back a scream, her skull pressed against the metal door, and with clenched teeth, she began a sharp command — the Voice. But her anger overwhelmed her and Feyd’s lips swallowed the words she hadn’t even finished speaking.

“Let me g—”

He kissed her like a lover. There was a passion in him that his ostentations of brutality had not yet killed and she found herself moaning, instinctively pleased with the full and masculine presence that swallowed her being — as if it wasn’t a murderer who had caught her just now.

His breathing was steady, as if he had planned all of that. From beyond the thick folds of her dress, she could feel his naked flesh. They clung to him, her clothes, as if they wanted to embrace him. His left hand held her fist, the blade trapped within their entangled grip. The other held her jaw, tilting her face high enough for his lips.

“I knew you’d come,” he breathed, pausing to rest his mouth on hers. She could taste ink on her tongue — the final traces from the coating on his teeth. “I dreamed of you.”

So that was how he knew. That was why he pouted in his sleep.

“Will you kill me?” he whispered.

She could feel it on her cheeks when that boyish smile of his grew.

“I have to,” she said, and her own voice betrayed her, sounding terribly broken.

“Try,” Feyd grinned.

[mannequinreligi0n]

Sins

priest!Vergil listens to your confession

pairing: priest!Vergil x nun!reader (mostly gn pronouns)

wc: 1380

warnings: mentions of religion

author’s note: priest vergil save me…..save me priest vergil…..might write a second part that’s actually spicy to this if there’s a demand for it. also i’m too lazy to proofread so you get what you get !

⛪️⛪️⛪️⛪️⛪️⛪️⛪️⛪️⛪️⛪️⛪️⛪️

The seven o’clock mass had ended well over an hour ago, yet stray sinners still lined up to have their confessions heard. As the line dwindled, you wandered methodically around the church to dim the various lights and lanterns perched on pillars, leaving only the votive candles left to illuminate the grand hall. Every Sunday evening, your branch held an evening mass that was near identical to the morning service for those who couldn’t attend earlier in the day. Your fellow brothers and sisters of the church often rotated duties and you were fortunate enough to be left with attending the evening service, with hopes you could catch Father Vergil once confession had concluded.

There were two other nuns pacing about, helping escort leaving patrons out and collecting prayer books from pews, but they paid little mind to you. It was another twenty minutes before the final church-goer exited the confessional, signing himself with the cross as a nun came over to take his hand in prayer as they walked to the front door. The other nun followed loosely behind, closing stray doors, leaving only you in the echo chamber of the lord. You continue your duties of straightening the prayer candles when a loud creak of wood perks your ears. A series of expensive footsteps followed, a decibel louder with each step.

“Sister, you’re still here? The sun will set within the hour.”

You turn to acknowledge the voice: it’s Father Vergil, but you already knew that. You had practically studied the rhythm in his walk, the cadence of his voice, the soft aroma of myrrh and lavender that clouded him.

“Apologies, Father. I wished to do my work to the best degree, no matter the position of the sun. It is what our lord in heaven would wish.”

You bowed your head in atonement, not wanting to disrespect him in the slightest. It is only when you heard a hum of amusement from the priest that your head raised, greeted with stormy eyes and a smile of grace.

“God would forgive you for turning in early, sister,” Father Vergil mused, chuckling lightly. “Come, let me walk you out.”

You look down to see Father Vergil’s arm extended to you, an offering from above. If god knew of your sins, why was he indulging you with such a delight? Perhaps this was a test of faith. With hesitation, you take his arm, immediately reveling in the warmth of it. Shaking your head, you try to rid yourself of sinful thoughts, only to garner more attention from the priest. He stops you both from walking any further, you two standing in between the pews. Father Vergil turns to directly face you, clasping his hands over yours with concern and sincerity.

“You seem troubled, my child. Is there something you wish to share?”

Your eyeballs almost bulge out of your head from the accusation and touch of his hands. God has spoken to him of your impurities! Our benevolent lord has enlightened your dear priest with the knowledge of your thoughts. You immediately collapse before him to your knees, still grasping at his hands for a semblance of rapture.

“Oh, Father! I am not worthy to stand in the home of God beside you! I have betrayed my teachings, my very essence by entertaining these plaguing voices from the devil, himself!” you blubbered out, tears of shame cascading down your face.

Your hands shake as you grip his hands, fearing that he’ll turn his merciful eyes from you. The shake of your body is so persistent that your veil falls from your head, exposing your hair to the dimming light shining through the stained windows. Father Vergil stares at you with utter confusion, unsure where this fit arose from. His eyes flicker between your white knuckles and desperate eyes, not sure what “thoughts” you could be alluding to.

“Dear child, what has troubled you so?” Father Vergil questions softly, slowly bending down to speak more directly. “You are safe, and with God as my witness, I will not pass judgment on your sins. Please, share your burden with me.”

With tear-soaked cheeks, you swallow hard and bring your attention back up to him. “I wish to confess, Father,” you say meekly, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. A terrible, crude sin.”

Father Vergil lowers himself to his knees to sit across from you, still holding your hands. He nods for you to continue.

“It has been weeks- no, months, that my mind has wandered a dark path. I pray to God every night to take these…these obscene a-and lewd thoughts from me, but I fear I have strayed too far from Him, as He remains silent to me,” you exclaim to him.

Intrigued, Vergil raises an eyebrow. “What thoughts exactly?” his voice careful.

“I….I am not sure if I have the heart to voice them, Father,” you say, a frown plastered on your face.

“I understand this is difficult, Sister, but to receive penance and be absolved, you must confess to God,” Father Vergil sighs, squeezing your hands, “Has no one condemned you?… Neither do I condemn you.”

“John 8:11,” you say promptly, recognizing the verse.

Father Vergil nods and smiles gently, nodding once more. “Confess, and you will be rid of such sin.”

You look down at your joined hands and breathe deep, saying a silent prayer to God before speaking.

“Father…..I have been riddled with…disgraceful thoughts of you. I hear you speak sweet nothings to me in the lonesome night; I feel your skin on mine in times of need. I fear that my devotion to God has transformed into the devotion of you.”

Vergil’s smile falls as you speak, a cold, unreadable expression glossing over. He untangles his hands from yours and grasps at the rosary draped over his chest.

“Sister,” he starts, eyeing you warily, “such thoughts have challenged even the strongest of God’s creatures. But to worship someone other than our lord…it is sacrilege.”

There’s a long pause as Father Vergil closes his eyes, deep in thought. You watch his nose scrunch in the dim candlelight, wrinkles forming on his marble-carved face.

“You must try to rid your pure mind of such fallacies, in order to receive penance. Let us pray,” Vergil orders, making the sign of the cross. You follow suit, ‘in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,’ and clasp your hands together to your chest, bowing your head to them. You listen intently as Father Vergil recites a prayer asking for your forgiveness, soaking in every word. Even now, you can’t help but feel a warmth in your body at the hushed, intimate tone of his voice. Pushing the desires down, you return your focus in time to end the prayer, echoing Vergil’s ‘amen’.

You open your eyes to see him standing, offering a hand to help you up. You take it and grab your fallen veil off the tile. Fixing it back in place, Vergil takes a few steps back from you and seems to be mumbling a small prayer to himself, twisting the cross on his rosary in his delicate fingers. You brush off the dust and wrinkles from your garb and clear your throat.

“Shall I continue my duties for the ni-“

“No,” Vergil promptly interrupts, “no, I think I can finish closing up myself. It would be best if you found your way home.”

There’s a pang in your chest, an arrow to your heart, at the stark dismissal. You wanted to say more to him, to apologize profusely, but you knew it would only make things worse. You bowed your head in obedience.

“Yes, Father.”

You crossed yourself one last time before turning on your heels to leave, the clicking of your shoes reverberating off the church walls. Father Vergil watched you as you scurried out, tail between your legs. Everything happened so quickly that he didn’t get a chance to voice that he, too, was struggling with his faith in your presence, and instead, projected his shame onto you. Vergil exhaled the breath he’d been holding and walked into the pew of the first row, kneeling down and clasping his sweating hands together.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

[happys-crazy-queen22]

What Just Happened?

Gif credit @mrsmiawalllace.

You'll be seeing a lot of this gif, since there really isn't much out there of him. Well until I figure out how the hell you work a gif maker. Lol.

First Eyeball Chambers fic, I hope you all enjoy. I really liked writing for Eyeball so you'll be seeing a lot of him. If you dont like him. Block the tags.

Warning: assault, child abuse, attempted sexual assault. Caution when reading.

"What the hell happened, Chambers"? You gasped when you opened the front door. Eyeball was standing on your front porch dripping wet. His face bashed up and he was holding his shoulder.

"I dont want to talk about it. Can I stay here"? His voice trembled but Eyeball wasnt a crier so he gulped down his tears and went on.

You didn't say anything and just held out your hand for him to take. He went to grab it and fell. You let out a scream and knelt beside him. "Rich, you okay"? You cupped his face.

"What happen? Y/N"? Your brother Vern asked as he ran down the stairs. Almost tripping over his own feet.

"Help me get him to the couch". You order Vern. You both grabbed an arm and dragged him to the couch.

"He's going to bleed all over it. Mom's going to kill you". Vern warned shaking his head.

"Go get the first aid kit. Now Vern"! You yelled at him when he stared at Eyeball.

"Rich? Babe"? You rubbed his stomach to get him away.

"What happened"? Eyeball, groaned holding his head.

"You fainted I guess. What happened? Dont go giving me that crap about not wanting to talk. So talk"?

"My dad". Eyeball sighed. This was a regular currency with Eyeball and his dad. Coming over to your house after a big fight. Sometimes he wouldn't even make it over here. He would pass out in his car beforehand. His dad did damage that could never be undone.

"Where's Chris"? Vern asked coming into the livingroom with the first aid kit.

"He was locked in his room when I left. Ow". Eyeball his as you patted his cute eyebrow with a cotton ball.

"What was this fight about"?

"I don't know. I looked at him the wrong way. I breathed. I'm a live. Anything sets that bastard off". Eyeball closed his eyes with a sigh. You nodded for Vern to leave and go to bed.

"I'll get you some aspirin and a beer. Just stay". You rubbed his leg before getting up and heading to the kitchen.

You quickly came back and sat down beside him. Eyeball was sitting up and holding his shoulder.

"Here. He mess up your arm"? You asked handing him the pills.

"Yeah. Threw me against the wall. Then out in the yard". Eyeball gagged a little. He was a tough Cobra but when it came to taking medicine he was a child.

"That asshole. You and Chris cant stay there. It's to dangerous. Next time you might not be so lucky and walk away". You grabbed his hand and held it. Squeezing it tight.

"I know. But we have nowhere to go. No one wants us. No one cares". Eyeball leaned his head on your shoulder.

"I want you. I care about you and Chris. Maybe I can ask mom if she'll let you stay here out in the shed. Vern wouldn't mind. I know Billy would just love to have you around". You laugh. It was like dumb and dumber when they got together.

"I dont think your mom would like having her daughters boyfriend under her roof. Things can happen". Eyeball snickered to himself.

"Like what, Chambers"?

"You getting knocked up". Eyeball smirked.

"That would mean I would have to have sex with you and I told you that isn't happening. So lose the dirty images". You giggle shaking your head.

"That's all I think about". Eyeball sighed a happy sigh, leaning his head back on the couch with a childish grin.

"Wow. I love you". You kissed the top of his head.

"I love you too. Thanks for letting me bleed all over your mom's couch".

"Anytime. We'll go to your house tomorrow and get some of your things. You can bunk with twiddle dumb and Chris can bunk with Vern. Itll be a sleep over for the boys. Mom will be okay with that. Just until things settle down".

"Thanks". Eyeball smiled, snuggling into the crock of your neck. You loved Eyeball and would do anything for him. So what was about to happen, was very long over due.

"Vern, come on"! You yelled up the stairs to your brother. He was riding with you and Eyeball to get Chris.

"I'm coming". He flew down the stairs and out the front door.

"Did he have a comb"? Eyeball chuckled with a groan. He was feeling the effects of last night.

"He has no hair". You laugh, closing the door after you and Eyeball walked out.

Driving over to the Chambers residence was quiet. Eyeball didnt talk, Vern was nervous. You were just ready to get them out of that hell hole.

"Welcome to paradise". Eyeball chuckled when you pulled into the driveway. You saw Chris pull back the half ripped curtain as you all got out.

"Is he here"? Vern asked, walking up to the door.

"Van's not here. So no". Eyeball gritted his teeth as he stepped into the house. It was trashed. Worse than usual. Eyeball never let you come over, well one time but you weren't in the house a total of twenty seconds before he told you, you needed to leave. His dad had showed up.

"Chris"? Eyeball called out. Chris came out of his room with his bag already packed. A smiled on his face when he saw Vern.

"You got everything"? Vern asked Chris. He nodded.

"You two go wait in the car. Keep the doors locked". You told them, they hurried out the door. Leaving you and Eyeball in the destruction from last night.

"I'll get you a bag packed. Grab what you want". You walked passed Eyeball and headed to his room. Eyeball scoffed and kicked the coffee table, well what's left standing.

Eyeball looked around and found some pictures he wanted to keep. Of when life was good. Everyone was happy. One with Chris and him fishing. The gang. There was even one with you and him sitting safely on the mantle.

As Eyeball wondered into the kitchen he heard someone behind him. "Babe, you finish? We need to get.....". Eyeball turned around and saw his fuming father. Drunk as a skunk father.

"Where ya think you're going, boy"? Mr. Chambers, stumbled towards Eyeball.

"I'm taking Chris and we're getting the hell away from you. Last night will never happen again. Not to me and never to him". Eyeball gritted his teeth with a sneer. His shoulder was still messed up but he wasnt afraid to stand up to his father. Last night and all those other nights of beatings were a result of standing up.

"You're a little shit. Just like that brother of yours. Worthless pieces of shit". Mr. Chambers drew his hand back and slapped Eyeball across his face. Making him stumble.

"It takes one to know one". Eyeball chuckled and stood back up, straightening his jacket.

Mr. Chambers punched Eyeball in the stomach, making Eyeball groan bending over holding his stomach. "I guess I have to teach you another lesson, boy". Mr. Chambers punched Eyeball in the face. He fell to the ground and Mr. Chambers hovered over him. Throwing another punch. "You're just like your worthless mother. A fucking pussy. Get up and fight me". Mr. Chambers growled grabbing Eyeball by his shirt collar.

Eyeball was coughing and trying to let his fathers hands to let him go. This was beginning to scare Eyeball. He was cornered and there was no where to go. He figured he was a dead man.

"Let him go". You screamed hitting Mr. Chambers with a empty liquor bottle. It didnt faze him. He turned his head and narrowed his eyes at you. Dropping Eyeball to the ground.

"You little bitch". Now Mr. Chambers was coming after you. You backed up walking away from him.

"You stay away from her"! Eyeball yelled with a cough pointing his finger at his father trying to get his feet.

"If you're good for my boy, you'll be good for me". Mr. Chambers stepped forward, getting closer and closer to you. He was a dirty, grimy man. Just looking at him made your skin crawl.

"Stay away from my girl"! Eyeball yelled hitting his father over the back with a kitchen table chair. Breaking the chair, it knocked him down to the ground but it didnt stop him.

You looked around trying to find something to hit him with. But everything was either broken or wont do anything to him.

"The table". You pointed to Eyeball but he was busy trying to keep his father down. You swerved out of Mr.Chambers path and jumped for the coffee table. You picked it up and held it over your head.

"Move"! You yelled to Eyeball. He jumped out of the way and you hit Mr. Chambers over the head with the coffee table.

He didn't move. Laid there still. Eyeball limped over to you holding his stomach.

"Wow, princess. You really knocked him out". Eyeball chuckled with a hiss.

"Thanks". You laughed wrapping your arm around Eyeballs waist.

You both headed to the door, when Vern and Chris scared you as they ran up.

"Holy shit. What happened"? Chris poked his head in the house and saw his father knocked on the ground.

"Didn't I tell you to stay in the car"? You yelled.

"Just go. We gotta get out of here". Eyeball growled at his little brother. They ran off and you two followed.

Everyone hopped into the car and you drove.  Vern and Chris were playing in the back seat, laughing.

Eyeball sat close to you, one hand rested on his stomach and the other on your thigh. His head laid back with his eyes closed.

He was sitting there peacefully. A weight lifted off his shoulders. No more worrying about his father coming home drunk and beating the shit out of him or his brother.

Now all you had to do was convince your mom that having Eyeball living there wasnt going to cause problems for you. But seeing Eyeball like this is making it hard to not cause a problem. But what she doesn't know wont hurt her.

[thoushallnotfall]

No Good

Masterlist

Pairing: Ace Merrill x Chambers!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Notes: I’ve been sick lately, so you know ya girls been binging all her favorite comfort movies. Every time I watch Stand By Me I think to myself ‘I need to write for Ace; the love of my life.’ And now here we are.

This uh...this got kind of heavy for a minute there. It's angsty that's for sure, but I mean we get some good fluff at the end? So...yay?

Let me know if you’re interested in any more Ace fics! ❤️

Warnings: Mentions of abuse

"That’s enough Ace!” You yell as you run across the street. “Let him go!”

Ace Merrill, local gang leader and world-class jerk, was currently pinning your little brother to the ground.

“Aw, how sweet--is big sister here to rescue you?” Ace taunts your brother as he holds a lit cigarette up to his face.

“Beat it y/n; this is none of your business.” Richie, your older brother, says as you approach.

“Of course it's my business when your friend is threatening our little brother!" You snap. "Now get off him Ace! I'm not kidding around here." You warn, looking down at the blonde. He smirks.

"Oh yeah?” He says, standing up to look you in the eyes. “You gonna do something about it sweetheart?" You stare him down as Chris, now free, jumps up and goes to stand by his friend Gordie. Ace smirks as you glare at him, and you roll your eyes as you turn to your brother, checking him over for any injuries.

"You okay?" You ask, hand going up to push back the wisps of hair on his forehead as you look over his face for any cuts or burns. He quickly pushes your hand away.

"I'm fine y/n, stop fussing." Chris says, though there isn’t much fight in it. You sigh as you look down at him, looking far more mature and world-weary than any 12 year old should. Your concern for you brother ebbed, it was quickly replaced with a tide of anger. You put your hands on your hips as you turn to Ace and Ritchie.

“Uh oh Eyeball--I think she’s mad at us.” Ace jokes as Ritchie laughs. You scowl.

“What’s wrong with the two of you, huh? Do you get off on picking on a couple kids that can’t fight back or what?” You ask as you scowl at them.

“Listen Y/N, my friend here was only politely askin’ Chris to take back an insult he so rudely threw Ace's way. That’s all.” Richie replied, smirking as he places his arm on Ace’s shoulder.

“You know you should really teach that brother of yours some manners y/n.” Ace adds with a smirk.

“That’s bullshit!” Chris says behind you, and you turned to look at him. “I called him an asshole because he stole Gordie’s hat!” You turn back around and see the hat in question, now sitting on top of Ritchie’s curly head. “Gordie’s brother gave him that hat! They can't have it!” Chris adds, and your frown deepens. Everyone knew what happened to Dennis Lachance; that hat probably meant a lot to his little brother.

“Eyeball, did you see me steal anything?” Ace asks Richie with a smirk.

“No way Ace--the kid gave it to you.” Ritchie responds.

“That’s a lie!” Gordie yells as he stares daggers at Ace.

“This is ridiculous; just give the hat back Ritchie.” You say as you move to take the hat off your bother’s head. Ace snatches it before you have the chance.

“Now hold on a minute,” Ace says as he holds the hat up just above your reach. “The kid gave me this hat--it’s mine, fair and square.”

“Stop fooling around and just give me the hat Ace.” You say as you jump up to snatch it from his hand. He moves it away from you at the last second as he smiles. He leans forward, invading your space.

“What’ll you give me for it?” He asks, looking you over with his icy blue eyes. You glare back at him.

“You know damn well I don’t have anything to give you.” You say, annoyed beyond the point of caring about manners.

“Oh--hardly ladylike of you y/n, cursing at me like that.” Ace replies sarcastically.

“Shut up and just tell me what you want.” You shoot back. He laughs.

“Feisty as always I see.” He smiles. “I like that.” He holds the hat out to you. “Go out with me tonight and you can have it.” The two of you stare each other down, while Ritchie looks over at his friend in surprise.

“Hey come on Ace--that’s gross man, she’s my sister!" Ritchie says, looking horrified at the idea.

“Don’t do it y/n--who knows what he’ll do to you.” Chris pleads behind you. You and Ace ignore them as you glare at him and he stares back with a crooked grin on his face.

“Fine.” You agree.

“Y/N!” Chris exclaims in shock. Ace's smile widens with satisfaction.

“But you give Gordie his hat back now.” You add.

“If I give the kid the hat now, how will I know you’ll hold up your end of the deal?” Ace asks.

“Unlike some people, I’m not a liar.” You say. He stares back at you, before laughing.

“Alright, deal.” He says, offering you the hat which you quickly grab from his hand. “I’ll pick you up at 8.” He says as he turns to walk away; Ritchie looking between you and Ace before he runs off to join his friend.

You glare at their retreating backs until they turn the corner. You turn to Chris and Gordie, both of them looking at you mournfully. You smile at them, offering the hat to Gordie.

“Here, I think this is yours.” He looks down as he takes the hat from you.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He says as he hugs the hat close to his chest.

“You know usually, when someone does something nice for you, you thank them.” You say, smiling as you lightly ruffle his hair.

“R-right. Sorry--I mean, thank you.” He says, putting the hat back on his head with a small smile.

“What were you thinking y/n?” Chris cuts in, clearly upset. “You know what that asshole could do to you?” He asks, looking at you with concern. You just smile back.

“You don’t have to try and protect me Chris--I’m the big sister, remember?” You remind him. “Listen, don’t worry about Ace; I can handle him.”

“But--!” He tries to argue.

“That’s enough now.” You cut him off. “I’m a Chambers--we’re made of tougher stuff, right?” He sighs, looking at the ground.

“Yeah.” He agrees, before lifting his head. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.” You laugh.

“I promise.” You say. “Now, it looks like you two have somewhere to be.” You say, eyeing their sleeping bags. “Go have fun, and don’t worry so much.”

You watch them leave as Chris waves back at you. You return the wave, watching them until they were out of sight. The boys no longer visible, you let out a long sigh.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, wondering just exactly what you’d gotten yourself into, before turning on your heels and heading for home.

It was all well and good to say you that you’d be fine--it was another thing entirely to actually back that up. You'd know Ace for a long time, and while you didn't think he would do anything to you, there was always that lingering chance you were wrong.

--

That evening you lie to your parents and say you’re going with a friend to the movies, before leaving to wait a little ways down the road. You didn’t even want to think about what your dad would do if he found out you were going out with a boy--especially one like Ace.

While you're thinking about the potential consequences of getting caught in a lie while also being out with a boy, the boy in question pulls up next to you on the street. Surprisingly, he's on time.

“So excited you couldn’t even wait inside, huh y/n?” He asks with a smile. You roll your eyes.

“Cute.” You reply sarcastically as you get in the passengers seat. “You know my dad; he would kill us both if he saw me leaving with you.”

“He could try.” Ace jokes, though you had a feeling it was said more genuinely than he let on.

“Let’s just go before anyone sees us.” You reply.

“Yes ma’am.” He says, driving off into the night.

--

Neither of you say much on your way to the diner. Your thoughts drifted between how much trouble you’d be in if Ace didn't get you back at a decent time, and thoughts of Ace himself. You’d know him for a long time--before he was Ace. Back then he was just John; the troubled kid from school your brother palled around with.

You were younger than Chris is now when you'd first met him. You were shy as a child, and you didn't understand why people treated you differently. Now you know of course--everyone knew the Chambers were a bad family. So there's no way your deadbeat dad could raise anything but deadbeat kids. The three of you were bad seeds going nowhere fast. As far as Castle Rock was concerned, you were all no good.

Since good mothers didn't like their kids hanging around with anyone from the Chambers family, you never did have many friends growing up. Instead, you followed Ritchie around like a duckling; despite his constant complaints about it.

And that's how you met Ace. He and your brother constantly picked on you or would leave you behind when they ran off to play, but you didn't care. You would take anything over being alone. And sometimes, in those rare moments when you and Ace were left alone together, you saw a different side of him. When he wasn't trying to act out for his friends, when he wasn't showing off or acting tough. He was almost vulnerable then, a bit unsure of himself, and more than anything you remember how sometimes, he could even be kind.

The moments were always so few and far between that every time it surprised you; that he could be nice to someone, and that the someone was always you. You wondered sometimes if anyone else had ever seen that side of him, or if those fleeting moments of sweetness were reserved just for you.

Now more than ever you wondered if that side of him was still buried somewhere inside him, or if he'd let it die along with his name--strangled down deep in the darkness of his heart.

--

You pull into the diner, the lights from it's neon sign washing the parking lot in a soft, red glow. Ace parks his convertible and a carhop quickly comes out to take your orders before hurrying back inside. Ace pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the top pocket of his shirt as you turn to him.

"Okay, what's your game?" You ask point blank.

"What do you mean?" He asks back, pulling a cigarette from the pack and placing it lightly between his lips before putting the pack away. He lights it, quickly snapping the lighter shut as he takes a long drag.

"I mean, what are you trying to accomplish from all this?" You throw your arms out to vaguely gesturing around you. "Because if you think you'll be getting anything from me tonight you've got another thing coming." Ace throws his head back as he laughs, the cigarette glowing faintly between his fingers.

"I'm serious--I know you Ace Merrill, and I know when you're going with a girl you're only after one thing." You say as you look over at his profile. He takes another puff from his cigarette, slowly blowing out a cloud of smoke. He smiles at you as he ashes over the side of the car.

"Well damn, it sounds like you got me all figured out sweetheart." He says, smirking as he turns his head to look at you. "And yet you still agreed to come out with me tonight, so what do you know about that?" You scowl.

"I was coerced and you know it! Like I'd willingly agree to go out with you." You huff, crossing your arms as you slide down in your seat.

"Ouch--that's not a very nice thing to say y/n." He says sarcastically, still smiling.

"As if you have any room to talk." You snap back. "You're a jerk to everyone you meet."

"Funny, I don't recall ever being a jerk to you." He responds. You open your mouth to argue, then stop.

When was the last time he'd actually been mean to you? Had he ever, really? Sure, there was his general abrasive attitude and his sarcastic jokes--but had he ever, genuinely said something meant to hurt you?

"See, you can't think of anything. Admit it, I have always been good to you." He says, a triumph grin on his face.

"Good might be an exaggeration--and anyway that hardly matters. You not being a total jerk to one person doesn't change the fact that you're a bully to everyone else." You counter, sitting up as you speak. "I mean, just look at how you were treating my brother today!"

"Listen, the kid's gotta learn sometime how harsh life is; I'm doing him a favor teaching him how the world works." He says, flicking the butt of his cigarette out into the parking lot.

"A favor?" You repeat. "All you're doing is making life harder for a good kid who already has it hard enough." You slump back down as you sigh, looking down at the dashboard. "Trust me, he doesn't need a lesson about how hard life can be." You say more to yourself than to him.

Ace eyes you from the driver's seat, but before he can say anything the food arrives and the moment passes.

You eat your burgers and fries, talking about nothing in particular. Ace is his usual, rough self, but you grow a little more comfortable as you talk. Mostly you bicker back and forth, the whole conversation one small argument after another. Still, it wasn't an uncomfortable atmosphere to be in.

You talked to Ace less now than you did as kids, but you fell back into step like you still spent everyday together. His usual goading and pestering, and in return your typical annoyed response. Maybe you seemed like you weren't enjoying the conversation, but in truth you didn't mind. If anything, as much as you would hate to admit it, you almost missed talking to him like this. Not worrying about his gang or your brother or whatever anyone else thought about it.

Just two old friends talking like they'd never lost touch in the first place--though you'd sooner swallow your own tongue than say any of that to his face.

--

After you finished eating Ace told you he wanted to take you somewhere. You were a little worried about the time--or where in God's name he was planning on taking you--but it's not like you really had a say in the matter. Ace pulled out of the diner and headed out of town without a word of input from you. He soon turned on a country road that started to go up, and before you knew it you were parked on a cliff side out in the wilderness. From your spot above the world, you could see the lights of Castle Rock surrounded by a blanket of darkness.

You scowl over at Ace.

"Are you serious? I told you--"

"Just shut up and get out of the car, would ya?" He says, jumping out the side of the convertible. He moves around and grabs a small metal cooler from the floorboards behind the driver's seat. You watch him suspiciously as he heads to the front of the car, getting up to sit on the hood.

"You coming or what?" He asks, looking back at you as he sets the cooler down.

"Fine--but you better not try anything funny." You warn, getting out of the car. You hop up on top of the hood, cautiously sliding up to the back. You pull your knees up and wrapping your skirt around your legs, hugging them to your chest.

"Relax already. If I was gonna try something I would've done it in the car." He tells you as he opens the ice chest to grab a beer. He pulls out a Swiss Army knife and opens it up, using the bottle opener to pop the top off the bottle. He offers it to you, and--after a moment of contemplation--you slowly take it. He quickly works on getting himself one as you take a sip.

He takes a swig of his beer as he looked out over the scenery in front of you. It was a nice view. The two of you sat for awhile, just silently enjoying the scenery while you drank.

"Nice view, huh?" He says absently after a long while.

"Yeah, it is."

"Reminds me just how small this town really is." He takes another drink from his beer as he talks. "Can you picture being somewhere like New York City? You could go all the way up in the tallest skyscraper they got and look out, and you would still never see the end of it. Can you imagine living somewhere that big? Where no one knows you?" He asks.

"No, I can't." You answer honestly.

"There's trains that can take you further and faster than any car, boats that can take you around the world, and now they got planes that can fly you through the sky." He takes another drink. "All that, and I'm still gonna die in this shit town." He says, looking out over the lights of Castle Rock with contempt. You look over at him, staring quietly at his handsome face. You knew what he meant, how he felt. You felt it too.

"You don't have to. You could leave, go someplace else. Somewhere new." You say. He laughs through his nose.

"Yeah, go where?" He asks.

"Anywhere." You reply. He smiles, though there's no humor in it.

"Let's be real y/n; some people just weren't meant to leave." He finishes his beer as he smirks. "We both know the only way I'm getting out is behind six feet of concrete or laying six feet under--whichever comes first." He throws his bottle hard, and it disappears over the side of the rocks down into the trees.

You had never heard him be so introspective before. Then again, you felt similar. You were sure a lot of kids from Castle Rock did, but none of you talked about it so openly like this.

"Things don't have to be that way." You say quietly. "You could change--try to be better." He laughs.

"Yeah, sure. I'll get right on that." He replies sarcastically.

"You could!" You say with more force. "I have!" You say, turning away. "I mean, I'm trying." You say, sighing. You take a long, full drink of your beer, tossing the bottle out into the darkness.

"You think I want to be stuck here forever? Just to end up like my mom? Married to some piece of shit who beats me when he's angry, and he's always angry." You start to tear up, but you keep going; your eyes looking down at you knees. "Too afraid to leave, too afraid to stop him from taking it out on our kids. Always afraid, always hurting--miserable until the day I die. And then I still won't escape because they'll bury me in the dirt of this town where I'll be trapped forever, and a tombstone will be all that's left of me. The only reminder that I lived and died here--and for what?"

There were tears running down your face, which you quickly whipped away with the back of your sleeve. You looked back over at him, his face was a mask, hiding any hint of emotion.

"I refuse to let this place swallow me whole. I don't care what they say about my family--I'm going to be better. I'll get out of here even if it kills me, and then no one will tell me I'm no good ever again." You say with more resolve. He looks over at you for a long, quite moment, then cracks a smile.

"Listen, you point me to the assholes telling you that, and we'll just see how good they are at name-calling when they've got broken jaws." He jokes. You can't help but laugh in spite of yourself.

"You see? That's the kind of thing that's gonna get you in trouble." You reply, smiling over at him. He shrugs.

"What can I say? A tiger can't change his stripes."

"Tigers are still just cats you know. Yeah, they're big, but they're only fierce when they need to be. And just like house cats, they can also be sweet." He laughed at that.

"Yeah, just imagine me--sweet."

"You could be, if you tried." You say, smiling at him.

"Oh really? But I thought I was a jerk? Or was it a bully?." He says as he smiles over at you. You playfully punch his arm as he laughs.

"You are a jerk and a bully." You reply. "But I also know you can be nice if you really wanna be."

"Oh yeah? That's something you know, huh?" He says, leaning in a little. "And who exactly do I got to be nice to?"

"Well, you could try being nice to me." You answer.

"So, how exactly would you like me to be nice to you?" He asks, looking at you with a playful smirk.

"You could start by laying off my little brother and his friends." You say sweetly. He throws his head back as he laughs.

"Oh is that all?" He asks, looking back down at you. "And what exactly do I get if I do?"

"You're not supposed to expect a reward for being nice." You tell him. "But," You pause as you lean a little closer. "If you're nice to me, maybe I'll be nice to you." He smiles, his eyes glancing down to your lips.

"Oh, so that's how it's gonna be, huh?" He asks.

"Mhmm." You smile.

"You drive a hard bargain sweetheart, but," He leans forward. "You got yourself a deal."

You smile and close your eyes as you feel his lips meet yours. His hand moves up to cup your cheek as he deepens the kiss. Your heart was pounding like a drum in your chest and for a few, sweet moments, everything else disappeared. It was just you and Ace--no Castle Rock, no worries about the future, just the two of you together. Strange how a kiss with the right person can make you see stars, when all you saw before was the darkness.

You pull back and look at him.

"I mean it about the kids though--we're over if I find out after all this that you've still been giving them a hard time." You say. He rolls his eyes.

"Yeah I get it, I promise--now quit harping and come here." He said, pulling you to his chest as he leaned down to kiss you again.

You weren't sure what the future would look like for you or Ace; but you knew right here, right now, this is exactly where you wanted to be.

[80s4life]

Being A Chambers Kid & Dating Ace Merrill HC”*

Word Count: 1,254

Status: Requested!

Ask: headcannons for what it would be like for the reader being eyeball and chris’s sister dating ace merill? and some NSFW ones too if you’re okay with that :)

A/N: Hi anon! This HC ended up being split up by before, during, and after the relationship had ended *depending on choice*. In addition, in order for me to fully portray what I’m trying to say, I have a song list below as well (it’s not too long, like 5 songs). Enjoy!

Fandom: Stand By Me 1984

Relationship: Ace Merrill x Female!Chambers!Reader

Summary: You were his forbidden fruit, his best friend’s little sister, strictly the only woman Ace couldn’t have. But, he’s has never been one to follow rules, has he? Ace simply straps you down for the long-haul of emotions constantly swirling about, making you wonder, “Is this good for me? Is this just a fling or something built to last?”

Taglist: @snapessecretdiary​ @tangledcopperstrands​ 

Warnings: smut, dirty talking, breaking the law, running away from the law, angsty thoughts, angst/sadness, fluff, sweet gestures, abusive tones (but not much)

Masterlist Stand By Me Masterlist

{gif is not mine, credits go to @buckygal95​}

Before: “The Calm Before The Storm”

You were the “Small Chambers”

Although you were stuck between the two boys, Richard “Eyeball” being 19 and Chris being 12, you were the complete opposite of the two, 17, and only girl in a house filled with testosterone and hormones

Since childhood, Ace had been tied to your brother and family - always around, always apparent, always smart-mouthing

In some ways, you liked it, loving Ace from the moment you met him

However, you were his brother’s best friend, and he was a dangerous man always shouldering the world

During the summer of 1955, you’d taken up a summer program across the country, always seeking to excel in school

Ace secretly felt as if something was missing when you left, but was unable to truly pay attention to it

He couldn’t be in love, it just wasn’t Ace

It wasn’t until you turned 17, when you returned to Castle Rock in 1959, did Ace finally take notice to your changed appearance, no longer the little girl he remembered picking on

Your figure was fuller, comfortable in its final shape, decorated with just right amount of curve, deliciously plump lips, and catching eyes that seemed stern and determined even on a clam day

You were gorgeous...but Ace wasn’t going to let you know that

During: “The Missing Pieces Finally Connect”

He never formally asked you out. Instead, he simply grabbed your arm while you were walking down the sidewalk with your friends, saying something like, “You look hungry, you should really eat something,” whilst he steered you around and dragged you to the diner

You played pool, drank, and smoke, like old times

It felt comfortable even after all the time you’d been away, and by the time you were ready to leave, a whole day was spent

He dragged you into the alleyway that night, tipsy and happy, pinned you against the wall and did something you’d always dreamed of, he kissed you

From then on, you tried to keep the relationship under wraps

Never had a mom to gossip to and not enough trusting friends, but you told Chris

Chris almost fainted. Couldn’t believe, “That Asshole’s dating my sister!”

He promised to keep the secret after he realized how happy you were

Eventually, Eyeball does fins out too, but says nothing except shaking his head defeated

Dating Ace is bliss:

Light touches when the boys weren’t around/paying attention

Forehead, cheek, and nose kisses, although they are very fleeting (unless making out privately)

Smashing mailboxes with the boys

Setting abandoned houses on fire

Stealing stuff from the drug stores

Running away from the cops hand-in-hand

Laughing and joking constantly

All-night car drives in the middle of the summer

Making out in the backseat of his car

Definitely fucked in his car, parent’s bed, on a table, in a bathroom, anywhere he could get his hands on

Ace loves hickies, bites, or just generally marking you as his even if the public didn’t know it, “Still doesn’t change the fact that you’re mine.”

Ass and thighs worshiper (I said what I said)

10/10 with his tongue

Loves to peg you over and over again with his mouth and hands alone

Even with your strong character, you are definitely a bottom when it comes to Ace

Fucks you long and hard without remorse

WILL keep you up all night if he was really antsy or wanted to “teach you a lesson”

You’re a brat, but who cares?

Your relationship does have its lows though:

Petty arguments every once in a while

Ace, although hides it under his mask, is very insecure

Gets jealous after a while of being around one of the gang/men/males in general

His tough upbringing does make him deny any feelings for a person, let alone giving and receiving love, making it hard for you to break down his walls

You DO get through to him though, scaring him as he “feels weak,” but feels that he can trust you (as he should lol)

Ace says “I love you” first

It caught the both of you off-guard, but made the moment even better as he’d said it from the bottom of his heart

You cried (I would cry) and easily reciprocated with sincerity

He gives you pet names like “Baby doll” “Baby Chambers” “Munchkin” “Doll-face” “Honey (sarcastically most of the time)” and “Queen (occasionally)”

You settle for whatever fits at the moment, and when something new sparks, Ace always flushes a pink tint and smiles goofily while he looks down

You do have some common ones though, “My Man” “Daddy (just to mess with him)” “Blondie” “Gummy Bear” and “King of Castle Rock/King”

The Breakup: “Can’t Live Without You”

Most likely his jealousy

Ace likes to runs his mouth when he’s pissed off and doesn’t watch it when it comes to you

Throws things near you, never at you

Calls you all the names under the sun, but it’s “whore” or names based on cheating on him that hits you harder

Compares how wild you are when with him to you cheating making sense, “I should’ve known, the way you suck was just too good, huh?”

You fire back as well, mentioning his behavior rather than the unjustified claims he spews, knowing you’d never felt any other way than you did with him, completely loyal

By the end of the fights, it either ends in make-up sex or separating yourselves for a few hours

Ace isn’t one for apologies, but he does show you kindness and a softer side when he’s given the chance

Scolds himself when he hears you cry about something he said in the spur of the moment

The fights don’t ever end in breaking up, you can’t live without each other

That is, until you feel enough is enough

It’s hard, but you pack your stuff when he’s out with the boys, avoiding you

You don’t give him the say, he’s said enough

But, you do at least leave a note of your departure, going back home to Chris and Eyeball

They take you in with open arms, Eyeball somewhat being understanding and sympathetic when you go through your depression period

Constantly wondered if what had happened was your fault, if something could’ve changed the way you went out

Chris made jokes, “You know...I never really liked him anyways.”

You feel as if this is the end for you, but you’re better than that

After: “Love Lost, Lessons Learned”

You still see each other all the time, making moving on harder than you originally thought

Every place arises at least one good memory with Ace: the diner, the park, the long dirt roads, mailboxes, shiny new cars waiting to be driven, even toothpicks

You do, however, find the closer you were missing

You move on, you forgive him, you become you again

Or, a new you, as Ace had never deteriorated the person you were, he helped build an even stronger woman (he’s not manipulative/abusive!)

You catch each other staring sometimes, talk too

A friendship was rebuilt, the man you’d known was always still there

And, who knows, maybe a break was all you needed, and a story is still left unfinished?

Songs: “Bittersweet Melodies”

“Fire on Fire” by Sam Smith

“You Broke Me First” by Tate McRae

“It’s You” by Ali Gatie

“Dandelions” by Ruth B.

“Infinity” by James Young

“Happier” by Ed Sheeran

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 13

Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader

Summary: Ahsoka takes Din on a journey through the past.

“You should know though, you might not like what you see.”

Din shakes his head, dismissing the warning. “What’s one more nightmare?”

Rating: T

Word Count: 5,958

Warnings: angst, swearing, character death (canonical, but with my own twist), made up planet name that is ridiculous, dialogue heavy, plot plot plot, backstory

Author Note: Good lord this is soooo late coming out. To anyone who sent me an encouraging message I am beyond grateful because I really needed the encouragement to finish this segment. I hope more than anything this segment gives more answers than it raises questions (although reading your theories is both awesome and entertaining so keep them coming too!)

Links to Part 1 and Part 12 and Part 14

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

“Who the fuck is Moff Gideon?”

Ahsoka looks at Din, her brow furrowed deeply. He’s seen the expression on her face enough times to recognize its meaning: this is the face she makes when she is about to reveal a message directly from the universe itself. As an Oracle, she is the only immortal who can glimpse details of the past, present, and future. She has a soft spot for mortals, sharing the few precious snippets the universe allows her to with them in the forms of riddles and vague prophecies that never fail to give Din a migraine with their crypticness when he hears them.

“Moff Gideon is a Seraph who grew discontent with his position amongst immortals,” she says at last.

“Is he the one responsible for keeping my soulmate from me?” he asks, voice as harsh and unforgiving as the environment surrounding them.

“He is responsible for many sins.”

“I don’t have time for your vague answers,” he growls, hands twisting into fists. “You tell me not to kill this Seraph, then in the next breath claim he’s a threat. I am not a mortal who will be entertained by riddles, Ahsoka. You summoned me here to talk, so start talking. Tell me what you know.”

The Oracle’s mouth purses into a thin line. Nearly a full minute passes before she speaks again. When she does, the calmness is no longer natural, but forced. “Telling you what I know would be impossible.”

“Ahsoka—”

“But,” she pitches her voice higher than his protest while narrowing her eyes disapprovingly, “I am capable of showing you. You should know though, you might not like what you see.”

Din shakes his head, dismissing the warning. “What’s one more nightmare?”

She reaches forward, pressing her index and middle fingers to the center of his visor. If not for his helmet, she’d be touching the space directly between his eyes and instinct tells him the positioning isn’t random.

“We’ll start at the beginning,” she says, but her voice has changed from its usual cadence. It is ancient and youthful, a harsh scream and a hushed whisper all at once.

Din has only the slightest of seconds to process this in addition to the way her facial markings start to glow and her eyes flash white before he finds himself standing in the midst of a crisis.

There is mass hysteria every direction he turns. People screaming in terror, pushing each other and tripping over those who have fallen in their haste to flee an unseen threat; whole buildings are crumbling, sending flaming debris and shards of glass raining down upon the streets as smoke billows into the sky. The edges of his field of view are blurred, like he’s looking at everything through someone’s glasses, and it creates an ache behind his eyeballs. Fuck, is this what it’s like for Ahsoka when she experiences visions?

‘You remember the Fall of Mandalore, don’t you, Death?’ Ahsoka’s voice resonates from deep inside his brain, as if she’s fused her consciousness with his.

His jaw tightens when he says, “Of course.”

‘Oh, look. There you are.’

Sure enough, when Din looks forward he sees himself moving swiftly through the crowd, unaffected by the chaos as he stoops to reap the soul of a woman who’s had her skull caved in by the stampede of frantic civilians. He wonders how many others can say they’ve had an out-of-body-experience such as what he’s dealing with right now: reliving a traumatic event all over again while observing himself the same way a stranger would from a distance.

“Why are you showing me this?”

‘Because it’s important,’ Ahsoka answers, and the image of her frowning face enters his mind unbiddenly. ‘The universe has a plethora of endings imagined for every civilization, but it is the individual choices of the community that act as stepping stones bringing them closer to a specific fate.’

“Mandalore was always meant to fall apart. It was just a matter of how, not when,” he surmises, voice devoid of emotion. His words are punctuated by another fiery blast from a nearby complex, followed by an ear-piercing wall of a terrified child.

‘Precisely. But the same cannot be said for an individual’s lifespan. There are consequences if someone perishes before their time has come. You should know that better than anyone.’ There is a hint of accusation thinly veiled in her tone that has his body tensing reflexively.

His location shifts, shapes and colors mixing together without warning before another scene gradually comes into focus. It’s a large chamber with sparse furnishings, but its beauty is tarnished by the copious amounts of glass littering the room as every single one of the ornately designed windows have been shattered from the force of the explosions outside. Din knows before he even lays eyes on the throne he’s inside the royal palace because he first sees the familiar face of his most trusted reaper standing next to a blond-haired woman. Both women have such strikingly similar facial features nobody who sees them side by side can have any doubt they are related.

Whereas Bo-Katan dons gray-and-blue armor with a jetpack strapped to her back and two blaster pistols holstered at her sides, her sister, Satine, wears a garnet colored dress with a gold belt wrapped around her slender waist. In this moment, the sisters differ from each other as much as night and day; one a military leader, the other a pacifistic duchess.

“You need someone here to protect you. We don’t know who or what we’re dealing with and it isn’t safe for you to be alone,” Bo-Katan argues, crossing her arms over her chest as if to intimidate her sister into submitting.

“Our people are scared and defenseless, Bo. They need your protection during this crisis more than I currently do,” Satine says, voice soft but firm in a way only those deeply involved in politics can master.

Bo-Katan glances out the broken windows at the burning city, stubborn loyalty to protect her sister warring with her duty to protect her people. “Then at least send a message to Obi-Wan to come here.”

Satine shakes her head. “Bo—”

“I know things are strained between you two right now—”

“That’s a glaring understatement.”

“—but he’s one of our best and most loyal guards. He’s proven more than a dozen times he’ll fight anyone who’s a threat to you.”

“I don’t need the reminder of what he’s done for me.”

Bo-Katan places a hand on the blonde’s shoulder and squeezes it when she says, “He’s the only one other than myself I trust to protect you if you were to encounter danger.”

“Just because I’m committed to peace does not mean I am incapable of looking after myself.” Satine reaches behind herself to detach a weapon that had been clipped to the back of her belt. She clicks a button on its hilt, emitting a white blade shining brightly like a beacon amongst the dark clouds of smoke tainting the air.

Din’s breath catches in his throat. “Is that…?”

‘The Lightsaber of Mandalore,’ Ahsoka confirms. ‘Made by the Armorer herself.’

The Armorer is deeply respected by both mortals and immortals alike. As the goddess of metalworking and blacksmiths, there is nothing she cannot forge and infuse with grand powers. However, she is exceedingly cautious about choosing who is a recipient of her creations.

Din is one such recipient, having been given his armor of pure beskar when the Armorer realized how dangerous his touch was to mortals. He remains eternally grateful for the gift not only because it prohibits unwanted physical contact, but also because it is invulnerable to damage or rust like other types of armor. Ahsoka’s dual sabers were also made in the Armorer’s forge, specifically designed for the Oracle’s grip alone and meant to protect her during her journeys throughout the galaxy, but in contrast to the white blade of the Lightsaber, the blades of Ahsoka’s weapons matched the same blue coloring as the stripes on her lekku and montrals.

According to the legends Din’s heard, the Armorer created the Lightsaber for the first ruler of Mandalore because she was impressed with their culture and strong military, and it was passed on to each new heir to the throne over the centuries. When wielded in battle, the Lightsaber made the user invincible against enemy attacks as it siphoned off energy from the souls of those it sliced through.

Throughout the long history of Mandalore, Satine was distinguished as the only ruler to avoid warfare as she sincerely believed negotiations and treaties could solve any problem quicker than bloodshed.

As such, Din isn’t surprised when Bo-Katan raises a judgmental eyebrow. “Did you forget who you’re talking to? I know you wouldn’t use the Lightsaber even to cut a piece of fruit.”

Satine sighs through her nose, sheathing the weapon once more. “Fine. I’ll contact Obi the second you’re gone.”

“You better.” Bo-Katan leans forward, pressing her forehead against her sister’s. A gesture of affection within their culture. “I’ll see you soon.”

And then she’s gone, flying out the nearby window and diving straight into the fray. As a mortal and as a reaper, the redhead is fearless in the face of danger. Some might consider the behavior reckless, but Din’s always been impressed by her dogged tenacity to achieve victory no matter the difficulty of her mission.

Din looks back at Satine. Now that she is alone in the room, she is able to freely express her distress at the unfolding situation, looking as if she’s aged ten years within the blink of an eye. She fiddles with the comlink around her wrist, seeming hesitant to call this Obi-Wan fellow like she agreed to.

‘They haven’t realized it, but they’re soulmates, ’ Ahsoka murmurs, low and melancholic. Hearing it makes Din’s chest constrict with unease. ‘They fought recently and parted ways upset with each other. Unfortunately, she dies before they can resolve their miscommunication.’

The next sequence of events play out startlingly quick, as if Ahsoka has chosen to suddenly jump forward in time. His eyes struggle to absorb the fleeting details—the doors to the throne room being blown open; a Seraph in black armor emerging from the smoke; his voice is unique, velvety and thorny at the same time, as he addresses the duchess by her full name Satine Kryze; Satine attempting to stall as she subtly taps at her comlink, only for the tactic to fail as the foe teleports closer, eliminating the space between them.

“You have something I want,” he tells her, seizing hold of her throat. “You may think you have some idea of what you have in your possession, but you do not.”

One of Satine’s hands claws at his face, attempting to gouge out his eyeballs with her nails, while the other reaches for the Lightsaber. Her fingertips brush against its metal hilt just as he throws her to the floor. The impact knocks the breath out of her lungs, eliciting a strangled gasp, and shards of glass dig into her exposed skin, dotting the pale flesh with beads of blood.

Gideon—Din doesn’t need Ahsoka’s input to know this, for who else could the Seraph be but him?—places the heel of his boot over Satine’s neck. He doesn’t apply pressure yet, but the action in itself has the duchess squirming with panic, hitting at his leg futilely. There is a red light on the comlink flashing insistently, indicating someone on the other end is speaking but they’ve been muted.

“Give me the asset I seek.”

Through clenched teeth, Satine wheezes, “It belongs to Mandalore.”

“I thought you might say that,” Gideon replies, feigning disappointment. “However, in case you haven’t noticed Duchess,” he gestures towards the windows, “Mandalore is dead. My accomplices have made sure of that.”

“You’re a coward for hiding behind others. You don’t deserve the Lightsaber.”

There is a sudden change in the atmosphere, air turning impossibly frigid and crisp.

“I deserve it more than anyone,” Gideon says, angry enough he is trembling. The Seraph’s stance shifts, and although Din has witnessed every type of brutal death imaginable, he flinches at the sound of Satine’s neck snapping beneath his heel.

Gideon rolls her lifeless body over and rips the Lightsaber off her belt, a satisfied smirk on his face. He disappears as quickly as he arrived, reward in hand, and an eerie silence envelops the room. It’s almost as if the palace itself is stunned by the loss of its ruler, struggling to make sense of the merciless act of violence.

Time skips forward again, showing a young bearded-man dressed in military armor clutching at Satine’s body, pressing his forehead against hers as he weeps. Over and over he keeps murmuring apologies for not being quicker, for failing to be there when she needed him, for never saying he loved her.

“How do you know Satine and Obi-Wan are soulmates if they never matched?” Din asks, feeling like he’s intruding on a private moment despite not actually being there.

He thinks of a similarly phrased question he’d asked his angel on their way to Sorgan what feels like entire lifetimes ago: how will I know it’s my soulmate? Her eloquent response remains embedded deep in his memory, safely stored away along with every other moment they’ve spent together. Longing twists like a knife in his side as he allows himself a second of weakness to look at the soulmate marking on his palm.

‘I saw the life they were going to share,’ Ahsoka tells him. ‘Satine Kryze was not meant to die here. She and Obi-Wan should have both survived the Fall of Mandalore, settling down happily with each other elsewhere in the galaxy. Gideon’s greed altered their destinies.’

The palace fades away to reveal a much older Obi-Wan, gray-haired and wrinkled. He’s in Mos Eisley; Din recognizes the crowded spaceport instantly having taken his ship there for repairs numerous times over the years.

‘The universe puts a lot of effort into making sure soulmates match with each other at a very precise moment. Even if the match is rejected, the individuals still had an important impact on each other’s lives. Timing is the most important factor for a soulmate pairing, and if it’s off then the universe will attempt to fix it.’

Obi-Wan stops to help a woman who’s accidentally dropped her shopping bag, contents spilling out onto the sandy ground. She thanks him as he offers her a polite smile, both of their attentions on each other’s faces and not their hands. More specifically: their marked hands. There is the barest brush of their fingertips as they reach for the same item before an invisible blast of energy erupts from their touch, splitting them apart and sending every person and thing surrounding them flying in all directions.

The shock on Obi-Wan’s face matches Din’s own beneath his helmet. He remembers his angel telling him after the failed match with Omera what happened on Sorgan wasn’t the first time an event like that occurred, but she hadn’t been privy to the details. Her superior had told her she wasn’t high enough ranking which Din had thought sounded like a load of bantha shit at the time.

“Ahsoka, what is the meaning of this?” Din asks the questions quietly, but there’s an audible coating of frustration that he knows she won’t miss. “Satine’s dead.”

‘You didn’t reap her soul,’ Ahsoka says. It’s said as a gentle reminder, but it nevertheless has Din feeling like the ground has disappeared beneath his feet as realization dawns.

“I...didn’t.”

A quiet sigh echoes through his head. ‘I forgot how ignorant you can be. You can’t reap a mortal soul that transforms into a new entity.’

“She’s a Cupid,” Din murmurs. Either that or a reaper, but he knows each of his reapers like the back of his hand and Satine isn’t nor has she ever been one. He shakes his head, thinking of Obi-Wan finding Satine’s body in the throne room. “That doesn’t make any sense. Obi-Wan clearly loved her.”

‘Rejection can sometimes stem from a misunderstanding. Satine’s last living encounter with Obi-Wan was him saying so long as he was part of the royal guard they had no future together. She perceived this as him denying he cared about her, not knowing he had made plans to retire in order to ask for her hand.’

In front of Din, Obi-Wan rubs at his soulmate marking while staring at the mess around him, lines of unease and confusion creasing his forehead.

‘You asked, what is the meaning of this moment?’ Ahsoka continues. ‘It’s one of the universe’s attempts to reconnect Obi-Wan and Satine so they experience their matching as they were intended to.’

“But they’re of different statuses,” he points out needlessly. “She’ll outlive him.”

‘Yes, but the matching of soulmates not only influences the lives of the pair, but the lives of other people as well in ways both obvious and invisible. Think of it as a ripple effect.’

“Did the universe’s attempt work?” Din wonders. “Were they ever reunited?”

‘When Satine awoke as a Cupid, it was a surprise to both her and Gideon. Rather than kill her a second time, the Seraph chose to inflict a worse fate. She became the first of her kind to have her memories erased. However, he’d never previously used his ability on another immortal before, resulting in him nearly wiping her entire mind clean. The universe is capable of many miracles, big and small, but every attempt of reuniting the pair failed. It remains the universe’s most profound regret which is ultimately the reason why the universe brought you to Trinomliaxeros without your armor so that history wouldn’t repeat itself.’

There is a strange, heavy feeling that suddenly inflates within the confines of Din’s chest like a balloon. It’s different from the rampant anger he can still detect simmering beneath the skin of his human façade. He tries to shake it off, focusing on his breathing and the desert heat emanating from the twin suns overhead, only to slowly realize that what he’s feeling is fear.

Within his memory he can recall just one other distinct moment in his existence where he felt this spine-chilling emotion, and that moment was experienced on Trinomliaxeros.

“What did you just say?” His voice sounds shaky even to his own ears, but he can’t find any energy within himself to care.

A long stretch of silence fills his head; it’s the fragile kind, too, preventing him from snapping at Ahsoka to answer lest she become angry at him and yank him out the vision entirely.

‘Twice the timing of a soulmate match has been disturbed. The first pair affected was Obi-Wan and Satine. And the second pair was...’

“Ahsoka,” he says when she hesitates to continue, but any additional words he can think of saying catch in the back of his throat.

‘The second pair was you and your angel.’ Another pause of silence, shorter but no less meaningful. ‘Only fifty years ago, she wasn’t an angel.’

This is what Din remembers from Trinomliaxeros: feeling a pull so forceful, impatient and unanticipated it drags him across the galaxy in his civilian clothes, arriving to find the planet engulfed in smoke, unable to see his hand in front of his face, even without his gloves on. Finding skeletal remains burnt to blackened crisps with the souls inside shaking and traumatized, practically leaping into his outstretched hand, knowing either the afterlife or damnation would be better destinations than lingering there even a second longer. Explosions in the distance, bursts of flames as intense and hot as the sun, greedily consuming everything in their radius.

Out of the smoke and darkness, a survivor. A girl, covered in soot and sweat, colliding with his chest. The dead are calling out to him, pleading for him to reap them, to save them. Their voices swirl around his head, clawing at his brain and pounding against his skull. Shoving the girl aside, one foot in front of the other, letting his powers guide him to the next soul. Her voice cuts across the distance, a plasma bolt striking him in the back. We’re soulmates, she says.

His breath stills in his lungs. Fear spreads like a virus through his bloodstream, slipping beneath his defenses, turning him into a stranger within his own body. The declaration is a lie, an impossibility, a delusion. He has no match, hands unmarked, flesh poisonous and lethal. His words, too, are weapons themselves. Sharp, ruthless, desiring to wound her as she’s wounded him. You could never be my soulmate.

And then he’d left her.

This is what Din remembers. But, he thinks, squeezing his eyes shut so tightly it hurts, I’ve remembered everything all wrong.

Phantom hands gently press against the sides of his helmet, offering comfort without caring about the dried blood. He keeps his eyes shut, knowing it’s just a manifestation crafted by Ahsoka in his head. ‘Don’t blame yourself. This was the only viable outcome the universe could produce to ensure the bad timing would be remedied in the future,’ she says, but it does little to lessen the weight on his chest. ‘Your rejection saved her life. It granted you both a second chance of a first meeting.’

“How did—” Din struggles to string words together, to fucking breathe. “She—She knew. What we were. How…?”

The Oracle puts him out of his misery. ‘She found out the way all soulmates do: through touch.’

Din’s eyes fly open at that, and he has to blink a few times to bring everything into focus because there’s him and his angel right in front of him, frozen mid-collision. She’s grasping the sleeves of his coat to keep her balance, the palm of her marked hand touching his wrist. He stares at the point of contact for a moment, then barks out a laugh, hysterical and strangled sounding.

“That’s not possible.”

‘Soulmates can’t kill each other. She’s always been meant to withstand your touch.’

Din swallows thickly, staring at his angel’s face. He hates the question forming on his tongue, but it will haunt him the rest of his life if he doesn’t ask it. “In your visions, when I meet her at the right time, what happens?”

'You’re different by then, less broody and more accepting of the notion you could be loved. You have a soulmate marking,’ Ahsoka tells him. ‘You fall for her hard, even before your hands brush. You love her throughout the entirety of her lifetime.’

“And...when she dies?” The words taste like blood in his mouth.

‘Don’t torture yourself, Death. That timeline doesn’t exist anymore.’

For one brief, fleeting second Din is actually grateful Gideon altered their destinies. However, in the next, he’s trying not to let the fear gnawing at the back of his mind increase as it belatedly occurs to him that the universe is not as infallible as he’s always believed it was.

He wishes he could see Ahsoka, if only so he could glare at her directly. “Everything you’ve shown me has only further convinced me Gideon deserves death. Why have you asked me to promise not to kill him?”

'Do you remember what happens after this moment on Trinomliaxeros?’

Din frowns at the change of subject. “I continued to reap souls.”

'Yes. And then?’

He huffs a frustrated breath through his nose. This is Ahsoka, he thinks, at her most annoying. But, as much he loathes admitting it, this is also the most helpfully transparent she’s ever been. Today may be the only time she trusts him enough to share her visions. He owes it to her to be as open as she’s being with him.

That being said, he’s still wary of the memories he’s kept in the distant, shadowy corners of his mind being pulled into the spotlight. “Tell me we’re not gonna talk about the kid.”

‘We talked about the universe’s biggest regret. It’s only fair we talk about yours too.’ Ahsoka has found the crack in his armor he’s tried so long to conceal, peeling it open without remorse.

She doesn’t spare him time to argue. All he does is blink and he’s looking at his past self locked in a staring contest with a little green-skinned child who is propped up inside a floating, orb-shaped pram.

Of all the buildings and homes on the planet, only its temple had remained untouched by the destruction. Din didn’t know if it had been the structure’s own holy foundation keeping it standing or if it was the personal choice of the mastermind behind the attack, but he’d been drawn to it regardless, finding souls there to reap whose hosts had differed from other victims in that their throats had been slit. The walls of the temple were adorned with intricate murals depicting immortal figures and religious events of ancient history, but before he could observe the artwork closer, a quiet coo had stopped him in his tracks.

When he opened the pram, he hadn’t anticipated finding a baby of all creatures. When their eyes connected, every background noise abruptly ceased. Even the voices of the dead fell silent. Rather than rouse his suspicions, Din had felt only a sense of peace he usually only experienced in the midst of hyperspace travel where the stars were his voiceless companions.

An unspoken conversation transpired between the two of them, one Din still can’t translate into words all these years later, but it concluded with him knowing he would take the child with him.

Din had reached for him unthinkingly, the child lifting his arms up in eagerness to be held, but self-awareness kicked in right before contact and Din retracted his hands away so fast it startled the child into crying, brown eyes filling with tears. Panicked, he surveyed the room, looking for something to put an end to the wailing, before looking down at his own coat, experiencing a lightbulb moment.

“Alright, kid, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Watching his past self shrug off the coat, Din remembers it had been his favorite of his civilian clothes, well worth the cost for its soft fabric and length. He managed to successfully swaddle the child, ensuring his arms were safely tucked away to prevent him endangering his life, and Din exhaled a quiet breath of relief when the tears dried up almost immediately.

However, the ensuing silence wasn’t as peaceful as the previous one. Both past and present Din turn at the sound of distant shuffling echoing off the temple walls from another room.

“Ignore it,” Din tells his past self. “Just take the kid and leave.”

But his plea goes unheard and the past remains unchanged. Ahsoka is silent inside his head, either because she knows he won’t accept any more comforting words or because she thinks he’s undeserving of them for choosing to leave the child behind in his pram, closing it when he starts to whine again, so Din can go investigate the noise.

Din exhales a quiet breath, fingers twitching restlessly at his sides as he watches himself stalk through the temple halls, checking each room he comes across. It’s strange, seeing himself from this perspective. The distanced viewpoint allows Din to glimpse new details he hadn’t been capable of noticing back then.

Such as the reappearance of a familiar Seraph emerging from the shadows to stab him in the back.

Here’s one of the perks about being Death: he can’t be killed. That fact doesn’t mean there haven’t been attempts though. As Death, people sometimes look at his armor as a challenge. Like if they can fire a shot or throw a knife at just the right angle, it’ll wound him and allow them to live longer. Simply put, all those people are idiots.

When he looks like a regular, unintimidating civilian, he’s also been involved in violent predicaments where someone’s attempted to mug him or where he’s tried to save someone else from a similarly sticky situation.

Armor or no armor though, he’s always walked away from these encounters completely unscathed.

Well. With the sole exception of Trinomliaxeros where he was mostly unscathed.

It wasn’t the first time Din had been stabbed before. Usually knife wounds felt like a mild pinch. More irritating than painful, similar to a splinter stuck in one’s thumb. Once the weapon was removed, the damage healed within seconds, leaving behind no scar or proof he was ever attacked.

Usually, is the keyword to note here.

Ahsoka freezes time right when the blade of the Lightsaber is driven straight through the center of Din’s body, bone and flesh as easy to slice through as melted butter. His agonized expression—eyes screwed shut and lips open in a silent scream—would be comical if Din didn’t remember the exact emotions he was feeling in that moment.

Instead of a pinch, it’d felt as if thousands of invisible hands were pulling and scratching at him, attempting to strip apart his human exterior layer by layer—peeling off skin, scraping away muscle and bone marrow, seeking to reach the core of himself where his powers resided.

‘Looks like it hurts,’ Ahsoka says. The return of her naturally calm and neutral tone of voice seems almost cruel given the frozen, graphic display.

Din again wishes he could glare at her. “Is this funny to you?”

‘The transformation of the Lightsaber into the Darksaber is anything but funny.’

Lost in recollection, he failed to notice until now how the blade of the Lightsaber has changed in color from white to black. It’s the same inky hue that absorbs the brown in his eyes, that had dyed his veins during the execution of Hess.

‘The Armorer specifically instructed the Lightsaber only be used against enemies. As a neutral entity, you are, by definition, no one’s ally or adversary. By stabbing you, the saber became corrupted. It is a consequence Gideon still has yet to fully realize the monumental repercussions of.’

Time resumes, Din’s past self collapsing onto the floor, pressing a hand to the throbbing hole in his chest, attention too consumed by the franticness of his powers struggling to repair the trauma to notice Gideon lingering behind him. The Seraph’s stunned look of shock lasts barely ten seconds, morphing into one of deep contemplation as his gaze flicked between the weapon and Din, before he vanished.

When Din recovered enough to stand, he teleported back to the child’s location at once. He needs to get the little guy as far away from here as possible, somewhere peaceful and safe. His planning came to an abrupt halt upon finding the pram open and empty, his coat shredded and scattered about the floor in pieces.

“Gideon took him.” It isn’t a question.

‘Yes,’ she confirms. ‘The child was the intended target of this siege.’

“Why?”

‘He’s...very special.’ There is something about how her voice hitches when she says ‘special’ that has Din’s instincts prickling with alertness, but he holds his tongue. ‘Gideon considers him a tool he can take advantage of.’

The ugly, tight mass of anger swells inside of him and presses against his lungs, resulting in a low growl slipping out of his mouth. He curses his own ineptitude. If he’d paid more attention, hadn’t allowed himself to be wounded, he could have subdued Gideon and spared both his angel and the child from being captured.

“I warned you once upon a time, there would be consequences if you released your darkness,” Ahsoka says, her voice no longer emitting from inside his head. The vision fades back into reality the same sudden, jarring way one wakes up from dreaming. It takes all of Din’s self-restraint not to perform a full-body shake. “Your control is slipping as your rage increases. It’s making you not think clearly which is exactly what Gideon wants. That is the reason I am asking you to promise you will not kill him.”

Put like that, Din no longer thinks her request sounds quite so outlandish, even though he does still remain in the dark as to what consequences exactly will unfold. Ahsoka has remained stubbornly tight-lipped about the topic from their very first encounter, claiming the universe is adamant she can only share the details with one other person and it isn’t him.

“He deserves to die for all he’s done,” Din says quietly, but he’s self-aware to know his resistance is beginning to crumble.

“Between you and me, I think so, too,” she admits in the same low tone. Her ocean eyes are dark and stormy, reflecting her internal turmoil. “But rules are made for a reason and we would be fools to carelessly overlook the consequences of breaking them.”

The accusatory note from earlier has returned with a vengeance. He’s not surprised—of course the universe would utilize the Oracle to express its disapproval—but aggravation still thrums through his veins.

“Hess played a hand in my soulmate’s fate. He called her a whore.” Din’s upper lip twitches with the urge to snarl. “I don’t regret what I did to him.”

Ahsoka sighs. “I was afraid you’d say that. When you swore your creed, you promised the universe you’d only reap a soul when their host’s time has reached its destined end. By killing Hess, you not only broke a sacred rule, you also broke your creed.”

Din recoils, feeling like he’s been stabbed with the Lightsaber all over again.

“...What?” The anger is gone, extinguished by the weight of the revelation. Confusion and wariness are quick to fill the void. “What does that mean?”

She looks away then, but not quick enough to hide her troubled expression. “I...don’t know.”

He blinks, mind scrambling to understand the implications. “Isn’t that your purpose? To know everything?”

“For the very first time, the future’s unclear to me,” she murmurs, eyes briefly turning cloudy as if she’s trying to take a peek at the potential timelines right then and there. She shakes her head a beat later, frowning. “There are many choices left to be made, each one capable of influencing the fate of the galaxy. It is not possible at this time for me to predict our upcoming reality, let alone your consequences. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Din says, because it’s the truth and he doesn’t like seeing her crestfallen expression. Fuck, he might actually consider her a friend after all.

Whatever happens, he thinks to himself, it can’t be any worse to deal with than being separated from his soulmate. If he can survive this, he can survive anything.

“The last promise I made was broken.” He bites back a wince at the memory of his angel’s pinky promise. “But if making another one is the only way you’ll take me to my soulmate, then you have my word. I won’t kill him.”

A ghost of a smile pulls at her lips before she grabs hold of one of his vambraces. “Take me to your ship. I will guide you to her location.”

“You don’t trust me to go alone?” he asks, unsure whether to be amused or indignant.

“No,” Ahsoka replies bluntly.

Din huffs. “Fine.”

“I may not be able to see much at the moment, but I know it’s never wise to turn down support. You’re going to need us.”

“Us?”

“It’s Bo-Katan’s choice to make, but you and I both know she’s never been one to back down from a fight. Especially once she learns Gideon is her sister’s murderer.”

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[writinginatree]

Ace Merrill x Eyeball Chambers (& Merrill!reader) - Mediator

Summary: When your brother Ace and his boyfriend Eyeball have a bad fight it's on you to mediate between them in order to try and save their secret relationship.

Warnings: Mentions of homophobia, slight misogyny I think?, cheating (kinda), swearing

You're startled from the nap you were taking in your brother's car by the sound of yelling.

Before you can even try to decipher what's going on, Ace gets into the car, slams the door and drives off without bothering to look back at whoever he'd been arguing with.

You do look back, after you sat up from the little nest you'd made for yourself from a blanket and Ace's jacket, and see Eyeball standing there next to the backdoor of Irby's. He's already too far away to make out his expression in what little light the street lamps provide, but his fists are balled at his sides, his head hanging low.

You turn to look at your brother. He's gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are turning white, and his clenched jaw and furrowed brows tell you it would be very ill-advised to ask questions right now.

Not that you need to. It's obvious your favorite lovebirds had a fight, and it's not exactly hard to guess what about, either. When there's trouble in paradise it's always for the same reason.

That reason being that your brother dearest takes the keeping-the-relationship-with-his-boyfriend-secret-thing very seriously — which in and of itself is a good thing, as they both agree. Ace insists it would be suspicious if they didn't flirt with girls and take them out occasionally, and that's certainly true. Eyeball agrees, but that's where the trouble starts, because unfortunately Ace tends to take things a little too far. If he starts making out with these chicks as a cover, can that already be considered cheating? Ace says no, but Richie has a quite jealous side to him, and so fights about the dates Ace goes on aren't uncommon, while Eyeball's various dates are never mentioned, because he "knows when to stop".

As common and short-lived as these fights are, that doesn't make them any less unpleasant. And as the only person who knows about the boys' relationship you're always stuck in the middle, trying to mediate.

You risk another glace at your brother's face and rest your head on his shoulder, hoping it'll give him some calmness. This fight must have been a really bad one. You can't remember the last time you've seen Ace this upset.

Finally he pulls into your driveway. The lights are off, and since it's only quarter to ten that probably means neither of your parents will be home tonight. All the better.

You follow Ace inside without a word. He'll start talking when he's ready.

You pause in the hallway between your rooms while Ace enters his, wondering if you should give him some space. You don't want to leave him alone like this though...

Before you come to a decision he waves you inside, so you follow him. After closing the door behind you you sit down next to your brother on his bed.

"Wanna tell me what happened?" you carefully ask.

He shrugs and takes his time answering, lighting a cigarette before he finally says, "As if you don't know. We had a fight, the whole parking lot must have heard that."

"Yeah, well, I was sleeping. Only woke up when you got in the car. What did you fight about?"

Ace sighs. "The usual. That idiot seriously thinks I'd rather be with that ugly Beverly Thomas bitch than him. As if it's my fault she kissed me."

"...did you kiss her back?"

Ace crosses his arms over his chest, scowling at you. "Well, yeah. What else was I supposed to do?! I got a reputation to uphold, you know that."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But you wouldn't like watching Richie suck face with some stupid chick either, would you?"

"That's not the point! If anyone finds out about us we're done for. We gotta keep up the act! I can't believe he doesn't know that."

"Of course he knows that, Ace. And he does his best to keep up the act. But... I wasn't there so I don't know, but could it be that maybe you overdid it a little?"

The question earns you another glare from your brother. "Whose side are you even on?!"

"There shouldn't be sides, Ace! I just want you to stop fighting! I'm sick of it. As if it ain't bad enough that Mom and Dad are screaming at each other all the time, now you guys gotta start with the stupid, pointless arguments too!"

Ace's expression softens. "'m sorry, Princess. But if Richie gets jealous about every little bullshit that's not my fault."

"It's at least partly your fault. The least you could do is make sure he doesn't have to see you making out with those sluts–"

"Language, Sweetie."

You blow a raspberry at him and continue. "I'm just saying you both need to work on this issue."

Ace sighs once more. "I'm not sure if there's much left to work on after today..."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"It's supposed to mean that I don't know if he even wants to be with me anymore."

You're too shocked to say anything for a moment, but then you jump up from the bed. "Hold the fuck on! Of course he still wants to be with you! You're just having a stupid little fight, you can't break up! You... You love each other! You can't break up!"

Instead of answering Ace just buries his face in his hands.

You sit back down and hug him, and say, "I'll talk to him. I'm sure he doesn't want to break up with you. It's gonna be fine, Johnny, you'll see."

When he doesn't even reprimand you for calling him Johnny you know he's feeling really terrible. There's no doubt in your mind that Eyeball is feeling just as bad, so you decide to head to his place and talk to him right away.

Ace gets a kiss on the cheek, then, before he knows it, you're out the door.

It's a short walk to the Chambers' place, and you wonder if Richie is even there already. What if he's still at Irby's? You shrug the thought off, and walk around the house to the window leading into the room he shares with his brother. You don't want to take the front door, not only because it's late and his Dad's car is in the driveway, but also because you'll be talking about a sensitive topic that no one else needs to know about.

Looking through the window there's no light on, but that's not saying much, so you softly knock. There's no answer at first, but when you knock again Chris' face appears before you.

He opens the window, frowning. "What do you want?"

"Is Eyeball there?"

"No."

You sigh. Looks like you'll have to wait.

"Why are you looking for him?" Chris wants to know.

"None of your business."

You head back to the street to wait in the driveway, but out of sight from the house.

It's a mild spring night, but even so you're getting cold because you didn't think to bring a jacket, and you're glad when it doesn't take long until Eyeball shows up.

He stops when he sees you, hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped. It's hard to tell in the dark, but you think he might have been crying just minutes before.

You don't say anything, and let him come closer.

"Did Ace send you?"

"Not directly. But I told him I'd talk to you. He thinks you wanna break up with him. But you're not gonna do that, are you? Please say no, Richie. Please!"

He shakes his head. "Maybe I should, before he does. Maybe he'd be happier fucking around without me holding him back."

"No! He loves you, Rich, really. You know those chicks are just cover. I know he's taking it a bit far, I talked to him about that already, but he's just trying to make sure you guys don't get caught! If the wrong person finds out–"

Eyeball interrupts you with a hand on your shoulder. "I know the stakes, Y/N, believe me. If anyone even suspects anything my Dad's gonna kill me. But that doesn't mean Ace can just go around fucking everything with tits that crosses his path."

"Whoa, okay, now you're exaggerating. He's never actually fucked any of them, and he wouldn't. You gotta have some trust, Richie!"

"I do. I do trust him, okay. Shit, I know he wouldn't cheat, but I just can't help but think he'd be better off with someone else. Some chick or another, so he doesn't have to hide."

"That's bullshit, Richard!" You glare at him, hands on your hips, and put as much authority into your voice as you possibly can without yelling. "And if you assholes would actually talk about your problems instead of sulking and blaming it on the other you would know that. Ace doesn't want someone else, and he would not be happier with some stupid broad. And you are not gonna leave him just because you think you ain't good enough for him or whatever bullshit it is you've convinced yourself of. I decide who's good enough for my brother, not your self-esteem, and I say you two are absolutely made for each other. You're coming home with me right now, and then you idiots are gonna talk this out."

You don't give him a chance to protest, taking him by the hand and dragging him down the street back towards your place. You don't let go of him until you're standing in Ace's room; there you push him towards your brother and cross your arms.

"Now make up!"

At first they just stare at each other, unsure what to say. Neither of them wants to apologize first.

You give your brother a pointed look. Eyeball might have overreacted, but Ace did give him reason to be jealous.

"I'm sorry," he mutters. "I'll try to tone it down a little."

There's no need to specify what he's talking about, and no doubt he means it. If Ace says sorry and admits there was something wrong with his behavior you can be sure he really cares, because otherwise he wouldn't bother.

Eyeball walks over to him and sits down next to him.

"I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to make it seem like I don't trust you. I just hate seeing you with someone else, even if it's just for show."

Ace takes his boyfriend's hand, intertwining their fingers, and nods. "I'll try to keep the flirting to when you don't have to see. And I guess if I don't go on quite as many dates it wouldn't be all that suspicious..."

"Glad you finally realized that. I love you, asshole."

"I love you too, idiot."

They start making out, seemingly forgetting that you even exist.

You clear your throat. "Okay then. Now that we've cleared that up I'll, uh, be in my room with the music up loud, so you guys just... do your thing and don't mind me, okay? Okay."

[writinginatree]

Ace Merrill x sister!reader - Nail Polish

Summary: You want to paint your brother's nails. Also Eyeball is there too.

"Ace? Can I paint your nails?"

Your brother slowly turned away from the TV to glare at you.

"I'm sorry, you want to do what now?" he asked, as if he hadn't let you do it plenty of times before, as Eyeball broke out laughing from his seat next to him.

But he immediately stopped laughing when you added, "Your's too, Rich."

"Oh, no. Absolutely not."

"Please! I'm bored!" You gave them your cutest puppy-eyes, knowing they never could say no to those. "C'mon, it'll look great!"

Ace was already pulling the grimace that always preceded him caving, but Eyeball stayed resilient.

"Can you imagine what my old man's gonna do if I come home wearing nail polish, Y/N? He'll take one look and bash my fucking head in."

"I can remove it again before you leave."

Eyeball shook his head. "Just paint Ace's."

"Excuse you?!"

"Don't act as if you don't let her do it all the time," Richie grinned, and Ace's frown only deepened.

"I don't know how the fuck you know that, but I swear to god if you tell anyone I'm gonna bash your head in."

Eyeball grinned even wider.

"Tell them what? That you're an absolute softy when no one's around? That our little Baby-Cobra here"—that earned him a "Hey!" from you—"got you completely wrapped around her little finger? Or that you apparently wear nail polish at home sometimes?"

Ace rolled his eyes and threw a pillow at him. "Just shut the fuck up."

You had gotten settled in the space between them on the couch now, and set down the differently colored little nail polish bottles in front of you, for your brother to choose from.

"Which one do you want?"

"Black."

"Not an option."

"What? Why not?!"

"Because you always pick black. Pick one of these."

Ace sighed and finally payed attention to the nail polishes lined up between you two. He quickly decided on a dark blue one—an easy decision when most of the other options were either pink, sparkly, or both.

When you opened the bottle both boys wrinkled their nose at the smell.

"Be honest Ace, what's worse– the humiliation of wearing nail polish, or the smell?" Eyeball asked.

"The smell. Definitely the smell."

You grabbed Ace's hand, instructing him to hold still and started painting his nails.

Eyeball scooted closer, and rested his chin on your shoulder to watch.

"Don't shove her," Ace warned him with a glare. "I don't want this stuff to get all over my whole fingers."

He didn't shove you. He kept perfectly still, fascinatedly watching how precise you were with the little brush, and it wasn't until you were screwing the bottle of nail polish shut that he broke out laughing again.

You looked up, and yes, the sight of Ace with his hands stretched out in the air as he couldn't touch anything until the nail polish was dry was very laughable indeed.

The look he was giving Eyeball though, not so much.

"Keep laughing and you can walk home," he said with a glance toward the window, outside of which the rain was pouring.

"That's cruel," Eyeball complained, but stopped laughing.

"And you're really sure you won't let me paint yours too?" you asked, pouting at him.

"Yeah. Sorry, Princess. Maybe some other time, okay?"

"Okay. I'll take you up on that."

And if Richie was hoping you would forget he'd said you could paint his nails some other time, well, then he was going to be disappointed.

You would remember. Definitely.

[writinginatree]

Ace Merrill x sister!reader - The Tattoo

First time writing for Ace so I hope he doesn't seem out of character or anything. Let me know what you think?

Summary: You get upset about a misunderstanding but your brother makes it up to you.

Warnings: Swearing, some angst, tattooing

"Hey, can I get the cobra tattoo next?"

Eyeball had just finished giving it to Billy, and you didn't want to wait for your turn any longer.

Your older brother Ace looked at you like you had gone crazy. "Absolutely not."

You frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means there's no way in hell I'm letting you get the tattoo."

You jumped up from your spot on the hood of a car, hurt and anger flooding your veins. You thought you were one of them, Ace had even said so himself. You spent all your time with them, wherever you went the others weren't far, and people knew not to mess with you. Messing with one of the Cobras meant messing with all of them, and the other Cobras were particularly protective of you. They affectionately called your their little princess, even though you weren't much younger than them, and if someone implied you weren't a real part of the gang and that they only let you hang around because you were Ace's sister they were ready to throw hands.

And now you were all getting matching gang tattoos, all except you. How could you not feel betrayed?

Ace watched as your bottom lip trembled and you fought to keep enough of your composure to speak without bursting into tears, but you were too upset, so instead you stormed off towards Ace's car, getting into the passenger seat where you hugged your knees to your chest and hid your face against them.

The other Cobras, who had silently watched all this unfold, uneasily looked between you and your brother.

Everything stayed silent for a few minutes until Ace eventually called out to you. "Y/N, stop being a fucking brat and get your ass back here."

You remained where you were, unmoving until Ace called again. The second time he told you to come back you shook your head. "Nh-nh"

Ace fought with himself a bit before he gave in and came over to you. Getting in the car he tried to get a look at your face but you still hid it against your knees.

"Okay, what's wrong?"

The annoyance in his voice made you want to talk to him even less. But when you didn't answer Ace reached for your face, forcing you to look at him and was shocked to find your eyes glistening with unshed tears. He had been almost convinced you were just being a brat, trying to make him cave and give you the tattoo by making a fuss. Seeing you actually upset disturbed him. He didn't understand what you were so upset about so he asked again, softer this time.

"C'mon, Princess, talk to me."

You stayed silent, but just when Ace thought you weren't going to answer him at all you did.

"Why don't you want me to get the tattoo?"

Ace sighed, so he had been right and you were really just having a childish tantrum.

"Y/N-"

"You said I'm a Cobra too," a single tear flowed down your cheek, and by the way your voice trembled Ace was sure more would follow if he didn't manage to calm you down quickly. "But if you don't want me to get the tattoo I guess I ain't."

Suddenly Ace realized why you were so worked up. You had misunderstood him.

"Of course you're one of us. You're our little princess."

Another tear. "Then why can't I-"

Your brother interrupted you. "I meant not yet. I won't let you get it yet."

Your sniffles, that had been about to turn into full-blown sobbs, lessend. You cocked your head to the side a little and looked at Ace expectantly, waiting for further explanations.

"You can get it when you're a bit older, okay?"

You hesitated. "I'm still a real Cobra, even if I don't have it yet?"

Ace nodded and wiped the tears from your face. "And you will get it some day, I promise."

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise."

"Okay then." You said, managing a small smile when Ace ruffled your hair.

You let Ace lead you back to the others, who tried to pretend like they hadn't heard everything.

You sat back down in your spot, lighting a cigarette and getting lost in your thoughts. It was good to have Ace's promise of letting you get the tattoo someday, but you still weren't happy about the prospect of having to wait until Ace deemed you old enough. That could take god knows how long. It could be years.

Your brother's voice ripped you out off your thoughts. "Y/N, stop sulking and come over here."

You walked over to where he was sitting. "I'm not sulking."

"Sure you ain't." He gestured for Eyeball to hand you something. "You wanna do my tattoo for me?" Ace and Eyeball were the only ones left to get it.

Your surprise was written all over your face, making Ace smirk.

"You want me to do it?"

Ace nodded.

"But.. why? I mean.. I've never done that before, Eyeball can do it much better for sure."

Ace shrugged. "Maybe, but I want you to do it, Princess. You're not getting your own tattoo yet, but that way you can be a part of mine."

You felt your heart grow warm with love and adoration for your brother. He knew how much being a Cobra meant to you, and this was his way of letting you know it meant just as much to him.

"But what if I mess it up?"

"You won't. Eyeball's gonna show you how to do it, okay?" Ace reassured you, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. "You'll do just fine, Princess."

You hesitantly nodded, proud that Ace trusted you to carve such a permanent artwork into his skin, but at the same time anxious you wouldn't do it justice.

Eyeball squeezed your shoulder. "He's right, Princess, you've got this."

He carefully placed the ink-covered razorblade in your hand, showing you how to hold it, but as you brought it close to Ace's arm your hand was shaking so much you quickly retreated it.

"I don't know if I can do this, Ace," you all but whispered, too ashamed to look him in the eyes. "I'm too nervous, I'm gonna fuck it up."

Eyeball offered a solution. "How about you practice on me first then, huh? I still gotta get my tattoo too, and I can't do it myself."

You looked up at him with big eyes. It seemed Eyeball had instantly grasped the fact that it wasn't the thought of giving the tattoo itself that scared you, but the pressure of having to get it perfect on the first try. Because Ace's tattoo did have to be perfect. He was your beloved big brother whom you admired and looked up to, and, more importantly, the leader of the pack, and if his tattoo was anything but a masterpiece you would never forgive yourself, even though you knew to him it wouldn't be that big of a deal.

So Eyeball offered his own skin as your canvas, so you could at least get a slight idea of what you were doing without the pressure. "It doesn't have to be perfect. Just try it, and if you don't like how it turns out I'll do Ace's."

"Are you sure?"

When Eyeball nodded you took a deep breath to calm your nerves. As you brought the blade to his skin your hand still shook a little, but considerably less than before. Eyeball gave you another reassuring smile, and you pushed the last doubts from your mind and got started.

"Okay, I'm done."

You took a step back and admired your work. You had to admit to yourself that the boys had been right. It really hadn't been too difficult and you were quite happy with the result.

"What do you think?" You asked Eyeball.

"Looks great Princess," he ruffled your hair. "Good job."

With a smile you turned to Ace. "I'm ready to do yours now."

Ace smiled back, offering you his arm. "Go ahead then."

[writinginatree]

Ace Merrill x sister!reader - Lies

Summary: When Ace is convinced you've consorted with a rival of his a big argument ensues, which leads to you considering drastic measures to relieve your brother of the burden he seems to consider you to be. Fluffy ending.

Warnings: Attempted suicide, selfharm, self-deprecating thoughts, Ace says some really mean stuff but doesn't actually mean it, some violence

"You have some nerve to show up here."

You froze in your tracks at your brothers cold voice.

Was he still mad about the fight you'd had earlier? He didn't usually hold grudges against you for long, and it had been you who'd gotten angry and started a fight, so you didn't understand why he was like this now.

"I wanted to apologize. I shouldn't have called you a–"

"After what you did?"

Suddenly you realized the others were all glaring at you too.

"Just go home, Y/N, we really don't wanna see you right now," Vince said.

Nothing made sense anymore. You and Ace often had small fights, but you always made up rather quickly and the other Cobras never got involved.

So why on earth were all of them so angry at you right now? What was Ace talking about?

"What do you mean? I didn't do anything!"

"Don't play stupid. You stole my knife and gave it to that James asshole."

You stared at Ace, frozen in shock.

"I– what? No!"

"No? Then how come he's waving it around, telling everyone willing to listen how he tricked the little Baby-Cobra into stealing it for him, huh?"

Your brothers voice sounded calm but you knew him well enough to know he was absolutely furious.

"He's lying! I don't know how he got your knife but not from me," you tried to defend yourself. "Ace, please, you can't seriously believe that bullshit!"

Your brother stepped closer to you, getting right in your face.

"Wanna know what I think, Princess?" The pet name came out full of spite, covered in venom. "I think you took the knife and gave it to that bastard because you were angry at me. You made a plan with him that he'd let you take it away from him, then you would have come to me telling me how you got it back to make yourself look tough. But he never planned on giving it back, so now he's the one laughing and everyone knows what a stupid, petty little kid you are."

You vehemently shook your head.

"No! I would never do that! Come on Ace, I wouldn't betray you like that, no matter how angry I am! Especially not to James, you know I hate his guts!"

"Then how did he get my knife, huh?"

"I don't fucking know!" you yelled. You felt tears burning in your eyes from the frustration and hurt you felt at your brother's refusal to believe you.

"Tears won't help you," he sneered.

"Please, Ace, you gotta believe me," you begged. "I didn't betray you, I would never! You know that!" You looked to Eyeball for help, he was closest to you after Ace, but he refused to meet your eyes. "Come on guys, you know that."

"No, Y/N, we don't," Ace spoke again. "What I do know is that you're a spoiled brat that always ruins everything."

You couldn't hold back your tears anymore when Ace pushed you. It wasn't hard enough to make you fall, but you stumbled backwards and stared at him in disbelief.

"Ace–"

"You're nothing but a fucking nuisance. And if you think your crying's gonna get you anywhere I've got new for you: I. Don't. Give. A. Fuck. It's just pathetic. Look at you, you can't even own up to your shit and apologize! It would have been better if you'd never been born."

By the time your brother was done speaking you were crying so hard you couldn't respond, even as you wanted to scream how unfair this was, that you were innocent of the treason he accused you of. The insults he was spewing hit you hard, never before had he said such hurtful things to you, no matter how angry he had been. Yet you didn't question the truth behind them. Of course he thought you were a burden, who wouldn't if he had to take care of his annoying little sister all the time?

"You better get the fuck out of here now, before I give you the beating of your life."

Ace had never ever hit you in your entire life, and he didn't intend to, but he was a master of keeping a pokerface and you bought his bluff.

It was what he said next, however, that really shattered your heart to pieces.

"Or even better, just fucking kill yourself so I'm rid if you."

You turned on your heel, storming out of the Cobra's hangout place.

Had you looked back you would have seen the horrified expressions on the boys faces. They were angry at you, yes, but Ace had gone too far.

Your brother himself stood frozen in place, his face a stony mask. He already regretted his words, he hadn't meant to be so cruel to you but the lies were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Still, he decided against following you. Maybe he'd been too harsh, but you still deserved to suffer a little for what you'd done.

He would get back his knife, then he'd go find you and make sure you knew he didn't actually hate you.

You slowly walked down the street towards the edge of town, uncaring if anyone saw the tears on your face.

You didn't look up when a car pulled over beside you, but when the driver got out and spoke to you you whirled around to him.

"Look what we have here, a crying cobra, and all alone. Doesn't your brother like you anymore, poor baby?"

It was James' voice that mocked you, the person you hated with all of your being, who's face you wanted to break more than anything else right now. But he wasn't alone. Two of his friends were with him, laughing at your suffering.

You didn't let that stop you, swinging your fist at his face. You didn't manage to hit him, though. He simply grabbed your wrist, twisting it until you cried out in pain. Then he let go and pushed you to the ground.

You were seething. Your sorrow was forgotten for now, replaced by sheer rage.

"How did you really get the knife you fucking asshole?!"

"Your brother shoulda been more careful who he went out with. That girl he laid yesterday owed me one. She only went out with him to get close enough to him to steal his knife for me." He smirked. "And it looks like my plan worked even better than I dared to hope."

You tried to get back up but your enemy kicked you in the ribs, knocking the air from your lungs and you back to the ground.

Your hand went to your pocket, closing around your own knife, but you didn't pull it out. They were three against you alone. You didn't stand a chance, knife or not. All that would happen was that they would take your knife away too.

"Don't you wanna fight back, Merrill? I thought you'd like to try to get your brothers knife back." He waved it in front of your face, mocking you because he knew there was nothing you could do.

You closed your eyes in defeat. Ace had been right, you were weak and useless and never got anything right.

"Just fuck off," you whispered.

At this point you didn't care how weak you looked. You were weak, you knew that now. It had been the cobras who'd made you strong. Without them you were nothing, and they didn't want you anymore.

What was there left to fight for when Ace hated you? Maybe you should do as he'd said and kill yourself so you wouldn't embarrass him any further.

You were so caught up in your thoughts you didn't even notice when James and his friends drove away, leaving you lying on the dirty street, the tears on your face glistening in the light of the setting sun.

You had no idea how long you'd been lying there when you finally pulled yourself together and sat up. The sun was almost gone and you knew it wouldn't take long before night would fall.

Luckily you weren't scared of the dark, so the fading light didn't faze you the slightest as you started to walk again.

You were headed towards the forest just outside of town.

It was your safe place, your sanctuary. When you were upset you always went there to sit beneath the trees. Sometimes you climbed them too, hiding high up in the tree tops, away from the rest of the world. It comforted you to be surrounded by nature like that. No people, no loud noises, just peace. The smell of the trees, the sounds of birds and other small animals, a soft breeze drying your tears, it all helped you calm down and feel safe.

But not tonight. Tonight not even your favorite spot deep in the woods could make you feel better as your brother's words replayed in your head over and over again.

Did he really think you were a nuisance like he'd said?

He had every reason to think so, you were only too aware of how annoying you could be at times, and for a tough guy like Ace having to drag his younger sister around with him must certainly feel like a ball and chain holding him back. But then again, he didn't have to take you with him all the time if he didn't want to. You weren't a little kid anymore, you could stay alone, even if you didn't want to.

But you supposed it didn't matter. He thought you betrayed him, refused to believe you when you assured him you hadn't. That said it all, didn't it? The way he believed that lying bastard over his own sister. James and his friends had butted heads with the Cobras before, they hated you and you hated them, and yet for some reason Ace trusted his words over your own.

Maybe he had wanted to believe it so he'd have an excuse to get rid of you.

You took out your switchblade, staring at the engraving on the blade. When Ace had given you the knife you had been over the moon, the cobra engraved on it had made you feel special, like you really were one of them. But even if you truly had been a Cobra once, that was over now. If there was one thing Ace hated it was traitors and that's what you were in his eyes now.

Fresh tears gathered in your eyes and rolled down your cheeks.

It wasn't fair. You hadn't done anything.

As the moon rose high and became visible between the treetops you came to a decision.

You wouldn't burden Ace with your presence anymore. He'd made it more than clear that he didn't want you around anymore. You didn't know if he'd ever actually loved you, you'd thought he had and still wanted to believe he had, but it seemed like he didn't anymore. But you loved him as much as ever. And if he wanted you to kill yourself you were ready to die for him. No problem. You'd do whatever made him happy.

So you placed the blade on your inner wrist and made the first cut.

About this time Ace and his gang were driving around town, looking for James.

Finally they saw him.

He left Irby's with two other guys, his friends. They got in his car and drove away, and the Cobras followed them. He drove to a bar, and when he stopped in the parking lot so did Ace and Vince with their own cars. The gang got out and circled James and his friends before they could walk two steps away from their car.

"Alright asshole, where's my knife?"

"What, Ace, you don't have the little brat with you tonight?" James asked in feigned surprise, ignoring Ace's question. "I saw her after you sent her away, you know. Poor little thing was crying." He let out a cruel laugh that made your brother's blood boil with rage. "Tried to beat me up and get back your knife, the tiny thing, can you imagine?"

Ace could imagine very well. He knew you weren't one to be afraid of picking fights with guys twice your size, he'd watched you do it multiple times and it was him that usually swept in to help you when it inevitably became necessary.

"What did you do to her you bastard?" he growled.

"Oh, nothing much. I don't waste my time with little crybabies. She might have gotten a bruise or two–" His sentence abruptly ended in a pained groan when Ace pushed his back against the car.

"If I find even a single bruise on my sister I'm gonna break both of your fucking arms and cut off your fingers you piece of shit," Ace threatened.

"You're still defending her after what she's done?" James asked in disbelief.

As Ace talked to your alleged complice doubts crept into his mind. He had believed that you betrayed him when he first heard about it, and in his anger he hadn't listened to your denial, but the more he thought about it the more likely it seemed that he'd made a mistake.

"I don't give a fuck what she did or didn't do. Y/N is my little sister and if you actually hurt her you signed your own death warrant."

"As miserable as your precious baby looked when we saw her I'd say whatever you said to her hurt her much worse than anything we could have done to her," James said.

He smirked and Ace knew he was right. You usually were tough as nails and never backed down from a fight, but when it came to Ace you were vulnerable.

The people you trust most are always the ones who can hurt you the easiest. Ace held your heart in his hands and instead of keeping it safe like he should have he'd let his anger lead him to smash it to pieces.

Ace had to know the truth about whether you had betrayed him or not. He felt horrible for treating you like he had either way, but if you actually hadn't...

"Where did you really get my knife from?" he asked.

"Your sister, you know that already."

As soon as James had said this Ace was sure it hadn't been you. He didn't know why he was so certain all of a sudden, but he was.

Ace could see the knife in question lying on the seat of James car so he reached through the open window and took it. He brought it up to James' throat, pressing the sharp blade hard against the vulnerable skin. James' friends wanted to interfere but the other Cobras were holding them back.

"The truth now," Ace demanded.

"Okay, okay. It wasn't her. It was that chick you slept with last night."

Guilt washed over Ace at the realization that he'd done you wrong. His own words echoed in his mind, how he'd called you a nuisance, said he wished you'd never been born.

All of it had been nothing but lies, but that didn't make it okay. There was no way he could justify the way he'd treated you. It didn't matter that he'd only said these things because of how angry he'd been, especially now that he knew you hadn't actually done anything to deserve his anger.

He hoped you knew he hadn't meant it, but he was sure the fact that he had believed the rumors spread by James even when you denied them had already been enough to hurt your feelings.

Ace let go of the guy who'd caused all of this, walking towards his own car while he pocketed his knife.

"C'mon guys, let's see where our princess ran off to."

The other Cobras followed.

Before getting in the driver's seat Ace turned back around to James.

"Don't believe I'm letting you get away. After I take care of Y/N I'll make you pay for this."

With that Ace and Vince started their cars, turning in the direction of the spot in the woods where they knew you usually went when you were upset.

The boys kept silent the whole ride, all of them busy with their own thoughts. Ace drove fast, Vince following right behind, and it didn't take them long to get to there.

But when they exited the cars you were nowhere to be seen. Worry crept into your brother's heart as he walked deeper into the woods.

What if something had happened to you on the way here? It would be his fault. What if you got hit by a car? Or if James and his friends had hurt you worse than they claimed and you hadn't been able to walk all the way out here, how was he supposed to find you then? Or–

Before he could spiral into a panic his thoughts were interrupted by sobs.

He was deep in the forest now, where the trees were big and even the bright full-moon barely managed to light the ground. He saw an especially big tree ahead of him, and thought he recognized it as your favorite to sit under.

The crying he heard got louder as he approached it, and when he got close enough to see a small figure curled up on the ground beneath it he was relieved he'd finally found you. He would make sure you weren't seriously injured and apologize for all the hurtful things he'd said. Then he'd take you home and all would be well.

The relief didn't last however.

When he knelt down beside you his chest tightened with fear at the sight of the dark liquid on your arms and the ground. It looked almost black in the dark, what little light there was eerily reflected on it, and Ace immediately knew it was blood.

Your blood.

It was all over you, seeping from cuts on your arms, and the blade clutched in your hand was covered in it too. Ace recognized the knife he'd gotten you for your birthday last year. A beautiful switchblade, the handle was made of soft wood and there was a cobra engraved on the blade, curling it's body around your initials.

Ace was unable to look away from the horrible sight of the injuries on your wrists, even as he removed the knife from your grip and absentmindedly wiped the blood from it before putting it in his pocket.

"What the fuck happened? Y/N! What did you do?!"

You didn't answer your brother, only kept blankly staring up at him. Your mind was blurry, an overwhelming exhaustion slowing your thoughts.

You didn't believe Ace really was here, why would he be? No, the exhaustion from all the crying, mixed with the blood loss had probably made you fall asleep and this was just a dream, fueled by your wishing Ace cared for you after all. You were certain your brother wouldn't come looking for you. He thought you had betrayed him and hated you for it.

But when he grabbed your shoulders and forced you up into a sitting position you had to realize that he really was here.

"Ace?"

His heart broke at how weak your voice sounded.

You'd already lost a lot of blood, and it was all his fault. He didn't dare think about what would have been if he'd come here later or not at all.

He was talking to you, but it was hard to make sense of the words you barley heard over the sound of your own sobs and the blood rushing in your ears.

"God, I'm so sorry baby. I know it wasn't you now. I'm sorry I didn't believe you. But you'll be okay, Princess, just stay awake for me. You gotta stay awake, you hear me?"

You managed a weak nod.

Your eyelids were heavy and you had trouble focusing your gaze as you felt something being wrapped around your arms, but Ace kept talking to you, apologizing and telling you everything was going to be alright.

Then you felt yourself being picked up, and heard other voices around you. They had a panicked edge to them and sounded familiar. You thought you recognized Eyeball's voice, but the only one who's words you were able to make out was Ace.

"C'mon baby, tell me what happened," he requested, even though the slashes on your wrists and the knife he'd taken from your hands told the story loud and clear.

You remained silent, as your eyes fell closed and you just didn't have the energy to make yourself speak.

While Ace settled in the passenger seat of his car with you, leaving the wheel to Eyeball, he patted your cheek to keep you awake.

"Why did you hurt yourself like that, Princess?"

"You wanted me to kill myself. So I did."

Your words were quiet, with no accusation or anger behind them, but to your brother they hurt like a knife in his heart.

Ace closed his eyes and hugged you even tighter.

He felt horrible for driving you to hurt yourself like this and the fact that you weren't even mad at him just made it even worse somehow.

You had no strength left to be angry, and even if you'd had it, you adored your brother way too much to blame him for treating you the way he had. He knew that was why you had done as he'd said. Because you loved him more than anything else in the world and craved his own love and affection, but if he wanted to get rid of you then you were willing to do him the favor and stop burdening him.

A single tear ran down his cheek.

"I didn't mean that. You getting hurt or dying is the worst thing I can imagine," he mumbled.

He'd buried his face in your hair, cradling you on his lap. He was speaking too quiet for the other boys in the car to understand what he said, but Ace wouldn't have cared if they heard. You were the only thing that mattered right now.

"I love you Princess. I'm so sorry for what I said, but I promise none of it is true. I swear I love you."

When you arrived at home Ace thanked god your parents weren't home. They never payed much attention to either of you, but if they saw Ace carrying his sister inside, covered in blood, they certainly would have had some questions.

He brought you to the bathroom, Eyeball trailing behind while the others waited in Ace's room. He waited outside the door while Ace helped you out of your bloodstained clothes and gently ran a washcloth over your skin, washing away the blood and tears. He did his best to ignore the bruise that was forming on your ribs, but he made a mental note to make James suffer extra for this.

After he'd helped you change into a clean pajama he let Eyeball in and hesitantly stepped aside to allow him to tend to the cuts on your arms. He would have rather done it himself, his protectiveness over you had skyrocketed after what happened, but he knew his best friend was better at first aid.

So while Eyeball patched you up Ace stood there, closely watching your face, now free of tears but still red from all the crying, while trying to be there for you and praying you could forgive him. Praying things could go back to the way they had always been: His precious little princess always looking at him with nothing but trust and adoration. Never afraid of anything or anyone, never backing down from a fight. A real little cobra, even without the tattoo.

Ace decided to let you get it, if you still wanted to that is. He had wanted to wait until you were a little older, but after everything that happened today he thought you more than deserved it and wanted you to have proof you were one of them. Proof nothing like this would ever happen again.

What he wouldn't give to take the hurt that still lingered on your features and replace it with that big smile that always made the boys smile too...

When Eyeball was done Ace hoisted you into his arms again and carried you to his room where he sat down on the bed with you.

He kept holding you in his arms, unwilling to let go as he watched you fighting to stay awake and ultimately failing. Today had been too exhausting for you to stay awake any longer.

The Cobras were all equally worried about you, none of them wanted to leave you alone. So they sat crowded around you for a while, quiet until Billy complained about Ace hogging you.

"Why do you get to hold her the whole time?"

Ace glared at him. "Because she's my sister, not yours."

After another span of silence Fuzzy dared to ask the question of all questions, "She's gonna be okay, right?"

"Of course she's gonna be okay," Eyeball said. "She's a survivor, our little princess."

Ace kept silent. Speaking of your physical condition Richie was right, the wounds you'd inflicted on yourself had been bad, but the Cobras had gotten there just in time. If you would be okay emotionally too was a whole different question though.

When you woke up with the feeling of a warm body beside you, your first sleepy thought was that last night must have been one of the occasions when Ace allowed you to sleep in his bed so you could cuddle with him.

But as you moved to turn around the smile that had been making it's way onto your face died down, as the pain you felt in your arm when you laid on it reminded you what had really happened the day before.

You went stiff in Ace's arms, the trust that had always existed between you having taken quite a hit, but relaxed again after you opened your eyes to see him still fast asleep.

He was laying on his side, facing you, one of his arms protectively thrown over you.

Even asleep his face showed what a toll yesterday's events had taken on him. The peacefulness you could normally see on his face when he slept, and only when he slept, was overshadowed by worry and guilt.

Turning your head you saw Eyeball sleeping on your other side, and further the other four on the floor. You could vaguely remember the boys deciding to stay over because of how worried they were about you, but at that point you had already been drifting off to sleep in Ace's bed.

You also remembered waking up in the middle of the night, all the boys gone except for Eyeball. He'd told you to go back to sleep, that the others were taking care of something real quick and would be back soon, and you'd been too sleepy to protest.

You glanced at Ace's hands and the scrapes and bruises you saw on his knuckles told you he and the others had payed James a visit after you fell asleep.

There was no doubt that he, and his friends if they had been with him when the Cobras showed up, had ended up in hospital last night.

You took one of your brother's hands in your own, tracing your thumb over his bruised knuckles. He'd done that for you. Because James had spread lies about you. Because he'd hurt you. It showed that Ace really did care about you after all.

But it had been his own words which caused the most harm. On the drive home he'd apologized and assured you of his love, but it wasn't done with that. It would take time for you to be able to trust him again.

Suddenly Ace stirred next to you and you let go of his hand.

When he opened his eyes and saw that you were already awake he smiled and lent over to place a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

"Morning, princess. How're you doing?"

"'m okay I guess."

"Yeah?"

You nodded.

"Good," Ace said. He thought about adding another apology, unsure if you had even registered anything he said last night after he found you, but decided against it. That conversation could wait until later. "How about I make you some pancakes for breakfast?"

You managed a small smile.

Ace's pancakes were the best in the world, according to you. But since he thought himself too much of a though guy to cook often it was always a special occasion when he made them for you.

"Sounds good."

Ace got up to head to the kitchen, almost making Eyeball fall out of bed in the process. When you sat up to follow suit Ace shook his head.

"You can have breakfast in bed today if you want Princess."

You laid back down and snuggled up to Eyeball who was still half asleep and grumbling about having been woken up.

"Alright," you said, "thanks."

Eventually Richie was awake enough to notice you and placed a kiss on your cheek.

"Mornin', Princess. You doing okay?"

You couldn't help but smile at how similar Richie's and Ace's choice of words were.

"Yeah."

"Good. 'twas quite a scare we got seeing you all covered in blood like that last night."

"Hmh." You buried your face in the fabric of his shirt. "But let's not talk about that now. I ain't even had breakfast yet."

The other boys, who had still been asleep, woke up when Ace came back with a plate of pancakes for you.

"Do we get pancakes too?" Charlie asked while he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"No."

Ace sat down next to you on his bed, putting the plate down in front of you once you'd sat up. He glanced at your bandaged arms, worried you wouldn't be able to hold the knife and fork, but since it wasn't your hands that were injured his worries were unnecessary.

While you started to eat the other boys came over to the bed too. They sat close around you, barely leaving you any space to move your arms as they all wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay, until Eyeball put an end to their fussing.

"Guys, I know we all wanna coddle Y/N, but can we just let her eat in peace?"

"Right." "Yeah." "Sorry."

They moved away from you a little.

"I'm fine guys, really," you assured them.

When you were done eating you started the conversation you knew you couldn't avoid.

"I guess we gotta talk about yesterday, huh?"

"Yeah," Ace agreed, but he wasn't sure where to start, so silence fell over you again.

Ace gave up trying to find the right words and simply said what came to mind.

"I can't even put into words how sorry I am for what happened, baby. I'd have never said these things if I'd known you'd take 'em so hard."

He didn't know how to continue but Richie jumped in.

"And we're all sorry too, for letting you run off all alone and for not stopping Ace when we knew damn well he was saying shit he didn't mean just to punish you."

"That's all good and well but what I really wanna know is why you believed James over me?"

There it was, the real problem. What was Ace supposed to tell you when he didn't even know the answer himself?

He could only try with the truth.

"I don't know, Princess. I guess when I heard the lies he spread I just got so angry I didn't even consider the fact that he's a lying piece of shit."

"But I told you it wasn't me," you whined, "why didn't you listen?"

When they saw tears welling up in your eyes again Ace, Richie and Fuzzy immediately moved to comfort you. Fuzzy was too slow, Ace and Richie both already engulfed you in their arms, one of them on either side of you.

"Shh," Ace tried to calm you, "I'm sorry, Princess. I'm sorry, please don't cry."

You didn't cry, not yet at least, but repeated your question.

"Why?"

"I really don't know, baby. I'm sorry. I was a fucking fool, but I promise nothing like that will ever happen again. I know apologies don't make it okay but I really am sorry."

You believed him, it was audible in his voice how much it pained him to see you so upset because of him.

"You promise you didn't mean those things you said?"

"Yeah, I promise. You're not a nuisance or pathetic, and you don't ruin anything. And I definitely don't wish you were dead." Ace pulled you closer to him, so he was the only one holding you now, and turned his head to kiss your temple. "I love you more than anything else in the world, Princess. And I'd rather die myself than hurt you like that ever again."

You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in the crook of his neck, silently crying in his arms for a little.

"Will you forgive us?" Ace asked after a while, but immediately corrected himself. It had been him who'd hurt you, not the others. "Forgive me?"

You had stopped crying again and untangled yourself from your brother's embrace to wipe the tears from your face.

"I don't know. I want to but... I don't know. I suppose I just need time to get over this."

Ace nodded, understanding. "Give me a chance to make amends," he said, taking your hand and placing a featherlight kiss on the palm, one of the few spots that wasn't covered in bandages because of the cuts littering your skin. "Please."

"Okay. But this isn't something I can just forget about and pretend like nothing happened."

"I know. I fucked up. But I'll do whatever it takes to make up for it."

And he did. In the following time Ace and his Cobras went out of their way to pamper you even more than they usually did. They were extra soft with you, even in public, always making sure you were content and treating you like a porcelain doll that might break any moment.

They were a little overbearing, but you couldn't deny that all the affection was nice, that it made you feel loved. It was exactly what you needed right now.

And if anyone noticed their behavior towards you and thought it was a display of weakness then so be it. Their reputation was secondary when it came to re-earning your trust, and they made sure no one would try to get to them through you ever again.

[writinginatree]

Old Masterlist

These are my old fics for fandoms I no longer post about, my new masterlist with my current fandoms is Here

IT

Bowers Gang (platonically):

Halloween Night (fem!Bowers!reader)

First Snow (Bowers!reader)

Sick on Halloween (Bowers!reader)

Fake Friends (fem!Bowers!reader)

Henry Bowers (platonically):

Just a Nightmare (sister!reader)

Broken Knuckle (sister!reader)

Innocence (sister!reader)

Being Henry's Lesbian sister (Headcanons)

Patrick Hockstetter:

Halloween Murder?

Stand By Me

Ace Merrill (platonically):

The Tattoo (sister!reader)

Lies (sister!reader)

Bed Rest (sibling!reader)

The Ugliest Pumpkin Alive (sibling!reader)

His Nightmare (sibling!reader)

Fever (sister!reader)

Nail Polish (sister!reader)

Ace Merrill (romantically):

Sweet Dreams (fem!reader) (18+)

Love Confession (fem!reader)

Love Confession part 2

Tell Me (fem!Chambers!reader)

Ace Merrill x reader x Eyeball Chambers:

A Happy New Year

Ace Merrill x Eyeball Chambers:

Mediator (Ace x Eyeball (& Merrill!reader))

Supernatural

Sam & Dean Winchester (platonically):

Halloween Spirit (sibling!reader)

Can We Get a Dog? (sibling!reader)

Really?! A Hellhound? (sibling!reader)

X-Files

Dana Scully:

Be My Girlfriend? (fem!reader)