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1moreff-creator · 6 days ago

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DR: One Shot - Prologue First Impressions

Everyone cheer!!! Danganronpa One Shot’s prologue just released {go read it if you haven't it's awesome}, so I figured I'd record my first impressions the same way I did with DRDT CH2 PT2! As usual with this kind of post, don’t expect anything too cohesive or any impressive insight or whatever, these are just my silly thoughts on something I’m very excited about. I also don’t know how this is gonna go with a written format but, uh… we’ll find out!

CW: Thankfully DROS has its own cw system, here's the ones for the prologue :)

Ante Up, huh? Really like that title :D

“Maybe I finally exude enough of a VIP aura that the security guards just left me alone!” I love this protag’s attitude immediately, I’ve been really intrigued by Ellis’ vibe for an entire week by now and I’m already loving it!

“Ellis: Clearly, I’m in heaven, if I’m lookin’ at you~” FIRST. LINE. Goddamn Ellis does not beat around the bush.

“You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, right?” Watch this idea be one of the main themes of One Shot. I doubt it for now but it’d be funny.

“...we see a robot walk into the room. It’s a strange, spindly metal humanoid, almost like a mannequin. Its movements are stilted, seemingly only able to bend at key points in its design.” Damn that’s a creepy ass mascot design actually, awesome.

Monoquin is an awesome name, I love it. Also I wonder who had to be dragged to the room, Eight or Fifteen by the color?

“[Brown]: “Monoquin,” huh? And how’d you get us here? You must have some kind of establishment behind you.” Hi Six, you’re doing great sweety. Also the names are lining up with my predictions so far, right? Just Long and Rey so far, but…

Young too actually, I might have cooked.

“Ellis: Wow, so we’re all special? I was worried it was just me.

???: An Ultimate? Me…?” Ellis I love you and Five’s not beating the “blank slate” allegations so far lol.

Listen, I didn’t want to bring attention to it earlier, but if you’re gonna call them “Mx Ho” I have to point out how objectively funny that name is. Also I think this also lines up with the name guesses, which I’ll stop pointing out now unless it’s contradicted.

“Hope’s Oasis Resort and Casino.” A casino and resort, huh… Really interesting setting, very unique! Also Fifteen and Fourteen are gonna catch all the MM allegations unless this series doesn’t do an in-class MM lol. {This was said with my original talent predictions in mind lol}

“[Grey]: Modeled after a school in Japan, right as the apocalypse begins in Japan?

[Orange]: We don’t… know it’s an apocalypse. That seems a little dramatic, right?” … Oh. Oh. This is happening concurrently to the start of the Tragedy? The setting gets more interesting by the second.

“There is no way that my talent can be something as boring as the “Ultimate Lucky Student.”” I love Ellis x3. Also got the talent right! Even though I feel everyone and their mothers could have called it. Though I wanna note one of the possible talents they came up with is “Ultimate Champion,” which suggests they’ve probably won… something with their luck? We’ll see.

“Ultimate Moneymaker! The Ultimate Stock Market King! The Ultimate Investing Intellect!” I’m reading this one how am I still so bad about writing reactions right before shit gets explained? But yeah, stocks! That raises the question of whether Ellis even realizes they’re capital L Lucky or not, which is interesting.

By the way, I like the sprites, they’re very charming :)

“...even if we are debatably trapped here with a creepy living mannequin, there are still lots of cuties here.” Forget Ten being the Ultimate Romantic, Ellis is the Ultimate Flirt damn-

“[Light blue]: Cool! My name is Robert Smith, he/him, and, uh… it’s a little embarrassing, but… My “talent” is that I’m the Ultimate Normie.” YOOO! That’s hilarious actually. And I got this right! “Ultimate Regular Person” or something had been my guess, and that’s pretty much what this is! Though “normie” is a hell of a choice lmao.

“… He’s really giving me nothing to work with here.” Ellis is trying so hard it’s hilarious.

"Ellis: Wow… all these beautiful flowers, and yet, you’re the one I can’t take my eyes off of~

I watch their expression deaden for a second, but they take a short breath and quickly replace it with an effortlessly charming smile."

“Davis: Nice to meet you, Ellis. I’m Davis Love, he/him, and… I guess I’m the Ultimate Bachelor.” Interesting reactions to the flirting, especially given the talent… And while “Romantic” seems way off, I did get the general ballpark of “relationships.”

I don’t want to just copy paste all his dialogue, but Davis is… very interesting so far. Obviously doesn’t like the talent, but pretty confident it’s right… hm… Very curious where this one’s going.

“Kennedy: Monoquin told me that this room rotates from scene to scene every once in a while. Called it a Show Room. But he didn’t tell us why they change it…”

“I’m Kennedy Rey, Ultimate Conspiracy Theorist. Any pronouns.” Someone who makes insane theories from almost non-existent evidence... Holy shit did they put me in the killing game? :O /silly

Anyways, the show room sounds very… strange. Like a good way of setting up interesting murder mysteries, you know. Also Ellis’ comments about handcuffs are… so off the cuff (heh) he’s awesome.

“Kennedy: So they’re modeling Hope’s Peak closely… If you’re the “Ultimate Lucky Student,” despite us not being high schoolers, then they care more about being true to form than accuracy…” That actually is a pretty good point, given Ellis doesn’t seem to be a student- Oh God I’m actually listening to the Conspiracy Theorist. And I’m probably gonna end up listening to her a lot. How low will I fall?

“Vanessa: Well, in that case, I guess I’d say I found something that caught my eye, too.” Finally… someone that matches Ellis’ freak :O

“I’m Vanessa Bravo, and I’m the Ultimate Announcer! She/her pronouns for me, thanks!” Announcer! Really cool actually!

“Ellis: I’ve always been rather lucky with money. Gambling, knowing what stocks to invest in, finding money lying around… I’m your guy when it comes to making and spending cash. [...] Or a few choice stocks left to me by my dearly departed grandfather.” Backstory pieces already!!!

This does make me wonder how much accirax actually knew about Ellis before the game. I don’t know how roleplaying works :v She’d know everything about Ellis from the start, right? That would be my guess, might send an ask to the av-multifangan account later lol.

“Vanessa: Plus, the way he reveals information is so boring. I could do a way better job. Like, “oh, by the way, you’re Ultimates, like Hope’s Peak.” Where’s the drama? Where’s the delivery?” I always love when Ultimates are so passionate about their Thing :D

“They wear identical black and white attire with a red tie, including masks that cover the lower halves of their faces. Those, too, are split in half with black and white, reminiscent of Monoquin.” Ah, terrifying, cool.

“Taylor: Sorry, I should introduce myself. I’m Taylor Long, they/them pronouns, and I guess this place thinks of me as the Ultimate Impressionist.” Ooh, really cool! Not what I would have guessed but it’s awesome still!

“Ellis: I can see why. You’ve already left quite the impression on me.” How many pick-up lines does accirax have in stock? She’s actually so good at playing a flirty character damn.

“In a single moment, their entire demeanor shifts, becoming much more confident as they wink, pointing a finger gun towards me.

Taylor: “After all, I must be lucky too, to be meeting such a catch~ Everything’s coming up Taylor!” Oh this talent could be fun.

“Monoquin: Ah, they are the staff. They are intended to help the Resort run smoothly, as well as to make your stays here as luxurious as possible. If you have any requests, please don’t hesitate to ask a staff member. They won’t bother you unless you’d like their attention, but I assure you, they’re quite friendly.

Note Obtained: Staff Members” Love the note system, and you know I’m gonna use it! I’ll keep track of them always, don't you worry.

[Three locked doors] Õ_o

“???: I’m Vivian Mitchell, but you can call me Vivi! She/they pronouns. And, I’m the Ultimate Doctor! Or, uh… they call it something else…

Ellis: Ultimate Hot-tor?

Vivi: No… apparently, they think of me as the Ultimate Mad Doctor.” what.

Okay that’s awesome actually. Really interested in that talent actually.

“Why are there so many batshit insane people here?! Is that what being an “Ultimate” actually means???” Ah, can’t forget the classic realization!

“Ellis: …I won’t be in danger of death any time soon.

Vivi: Of course! No one will be, with me around.” Really interesting confidence, also I don’t know if that’s a death flag or setting up a mental breakdown upon the first death :v

“Vivi: If we can conquer death, we’ll be unstoppable!” Ah so she’s insane insane got it. Vivi’s definitely climbed the rankings of characters I’m curious about, what is her Deal???

“They giggle, then place a hand delicately on my arm.

Antonia: How charming. Tell me, darling, are you here to play~?

Ellis: Sure am. So, how much are you in for…?

Antonia: Well, considering I’m the dealer, I suppose you’d make the first move.

Ellis: Dealer?

They flourish.

Antonia: The Ultimate Dealer, Antonia Cisneros, at your service. She/her.” Hi Fourteen I’m your biggest fan. I wasn’t expecting Dealer but it’s a really interesting talent regardless!

[More dialogue] Holy shit she’s matching Ellis’ freak exactly actually. What in the name of card-game-related sexual tension.

“Antonia: I do believe we’re in Las Vegas. I’ve spent my time in plenty of Casinos, and I know my city when I see it.

Ellis: Hey, you’re from Vegas? Me too! Wow, we have so much in common…” Ooh… I wonder if Antonia’s right? If she is, that’s a crazy call, which I guess is expected of the Ultimate Dealer… call’s a poker term right i have no idea how this works. Also cool that we’re getting even more on Ellis’ background already!

“Aidan: I’m Aidan Ho. I don’t really care about pronouns, so just use he/him, I guess. And, according to a slip of paper I saw this morning, I’m, apparently, the Ultimate Contrarian.” Oh that’s what the Xs were for lol. Interesting title, and also kinda explains the fit, hmmm…

Also I called Antonia and Aidan being a pair, right? Well they got introduced together at least, so it’s something :v

“Aidan: Think about your actions before following the weird mannequin’s orders mindlessly?” Well I’m certainly seeing the title. Aidan seems peculiar. Another one on the list of intriguing characters. Which is probably gonna be at least sixteen people long lmao.

“???: I’m Paris Hall, and here, you’ll come to know me as the Ultimate Gossip! I use she/her pronouns, if you didn’t already know~” Okay, “spill the tea” that’s what the tea cups were about, that’s hilarious actually xD Would not have guessed this one in a billion years, but it’s really interesting. I can only imagine the kinda shit this one’s gonna get into when investigations happen.

“Paris: Got anyone you’re interested in?

Ellis: Interested how?

Paris: In any way. Ask, and I’m sure I’ll have something I can tell you about them.” Wow she works fast damn. Guess that’s the Ultimate Gossip yeah :p

“As friendly as she seems, I gotta be careful with my words around this one. She could easily turn what she knows about me into some sort of slander campaign, and that would NOT be good for the Ellis Ortiz brand.” I wonder how literally we’re meant to take the “brand” thing :v

“Cass: I’m Cassidy Torres, or Cass for short, she/they. And, here, I guess I’m the Ultimate Agent.” Ooh, cool talent!

Note Obtained: Customer Service Desk: There are locked rooms with objects that can be requested of staff. Requests are written on a sheet of paper, which include name if delivered to a room, but can be anonymous if delivered to the desk. Free of charge. {This is my own summary btw, not the note that's actually in the e-handbook}

Very cool concept! I can already see how this could play into murders in many ways. Obviously getting items anonymously is interesting, and I could see some kind of crazy way of framing someone by sending something suspicious to their rooms? In any case, this kind of list of information can go insane, reminds me slightly of SDRA2’s immaculate Trial 3.

A bar? This is Vegas, so USA, so drinking age is 21, yeah? I wonder if that’ll be brought up.

“???: Jeff Breeze, Ultimate Absentee. He/they for me.” What is this talent. Alright so forget what I said about Fifteen being suspicious, only Antonia’s talent seems related to the place so far.

“Jeff: Eh… I don’t really stick around to find out. I go where I want, and when it’s time to leave, I go.” What? This guy’s even more confusing than Greek Letters dude, who hasn’t even shown up yet. Really curious about them though.

“Grace: I have a boyfriend.” Welp. That was fast xD

“???: I’m Grace Thomas, and I use they/them pronouns. I’ve been dubbed the Ultimate Clockmaker.” CLOCKS!!! Well, I’ve been known to love Clockmakers (beyond occasionally accusing them of murder) so I’m down to see what Grace’s got going on.

“Grace: I don’t think there’s much use in speculation. We should put our efforts where we can for now, and come back to gather what information we can once it’s time.” Logical, I like them :)

“Ellis: Do you… not know your name?

[Nine]: …

They sigh.

[Nine]: I don’t. Or where I’m from, or my Ultimate talent, or… anything. Sorry to disappoint.” :)

Damn even the pronouns are ??? that’s funny.

So going by the fact I’ve gotten every other name right I’m assuming this guy is in fact “Mark dros” from the tags, so they’ll probably come up with the name soon. I’ve said before I’m a sucker for mystery characters, and that hasn’t changed yet!

“Noah: I’m Noah Walker, he/him, and here, I guess I’m the Ultimate Frat Boy!” THAT’S WHAT YOU ARE! I did call him being a frat boy, I just wasn’t expecting that to be the talent! Wonder what’s up with the Greek letters then…

“And I’m Harper Young, ve/ver pronouns. According to this establishment, I qualify to be the Ultimate Philanthropist.” Yeah that’s kinda close to my guesses. I forgot this word existed lol. Cool talents!

“Ellis: Did you just meet now, or did you somehow know each other before you got here?

Harper: We’ve been acquainted in the past, yes.

Noah: My frat hosts charity events and stuff, so sometimes people like Harper would drop in and help us out.” Oh cool! Can’t wait for one of them to die so the other one gets sad! :D

One outfit per student, usual business. Cameras are normal, no V3 shenanigans. Interested in the idea that some people may pick up clothes or accessories from the Desk, though I’m not sure if or how that will really come into effect.

The conversations are so cool! These characters bounce off each other so well, I love them all already :D

“Vanessa: Then, uh… Mark! You’re Mark.

Noah: You mean like… question Mark…?

Vanessa: It works, right?” Genius. Zero notes on this. Just flawless naming convention.

Note Obtained: Monoquin’s Hands: They serve as a master key to all the doors in the building. Ellis wonders if they can ask staff for these hands.

Hmm… That one’s interesting. Really gotta watch whether attacking Monoquin is against the rules or not. I could see this coming into play really late into the game, like CH5-6 late.

{By the way, I don’t know how I missed this the first time around, but sixth installment of the killing game is actually crazy, I wonder how it’ll come up. And I wonder if it’s related or a reference to how many fangans venus and accirax made before this one, since this is in fact their sixth :p - That was written before the Notice that it is not, in fact, related. I did figure it was, if anything, an in-joke more than anything actually plot-relevant, but still, lmao, good catch guys xD}

“Voiceover: The game concludes when there is only one survivor left.” So this is gonna end with the destruction of the killing game probably. Feeling lucky with my guesses, why not?

Wait actually.

Note Obtained: Killing Game Explanation. Standard blackened and spotless rules, the game ends with one survivor. BDA plays when 3 innocents see the body. Motives and cameras exist. This is the sixth installment of the killing game.

That’s kind of a shockingly low amount of rules… Maybe there will be more in a bit hold on.

“But then, what’s my play from here? Do I sacrifice all of these people just to let myself go? Do I try to outlive everyone, to be the last person left standing? There’s no way in hell I’ll just allow myself to become some random victim, a casualty of someone else’s scheme. Or, is there some way to rebel against the system altogether…?

Ellis: … So, is there some kinda prize for winning? Other than our escape, I mean.

Antonia: There must be. If it’s a “game,” there has to be an incentive to win.”

Bro??? Ellis immediately starts considering murder holy shit. And Antonia continues to match her rythm, damn. I was already loving how different Ellis was from other protags so far, but this is making me like them more and more. You know, the usual "the worse and more morally questionable a character becomes the more I'll like them" deal. I’d comment about how my tastes are concerning but I feel like that’s been established on this account lol.

Holy shit we actually have a full e-handbook that’s awesome. I love it I love it I love it- I’ll check it out after finishing the prologue.

I lied I wanted to look at the rules. Most of them are pretty standard, but I wanted to point out a few that interested me.

4: “If the blackened receives at least the plurality of votes, they alone will be executed.” I just like that they used the word “plurality” :)

7: “The blackened may only kill a maximum of two people during any single killing game.” I’m interested in the wording of “any single killing game.” Has someone here participated in more than one killing game? Is there a plan for these people to participate in more than one? I'm looking at Mark, who might be in a bit of a Rantaro situation, but I kinda doubt venus would repeat that plot point lol.

8:”If two victims are killed by two different killers in the same Trial, only the killer whose victim’s body is discovered first is the blackened.” V3 rules if I recall correctly, wonder if it will actually come into effect here.

13: “The destruction and/or theft of another player’s e-Handbook is against the rules.” No theft is actually quite notable.

Additionally, I’m seeing a few interesting things in the “Preferences” section. The fact that you can apparently give other people permission to open your dorm room seems like it could be important, and the chatroom intrigues me quite a bit. The character profiles are also cool to see. I don’t see any immediately obviously important birthday dates, but I’ll note the likes and dislikes. I also see that everyone has a set of six die faces on the top right, except Ellis. I’m assuming that everyone has five free time events (since they start at 1 lit up) and those die are a way of keeping track of how many got done.

Anyways back to the prologue.

“Robert: Well… that just happened.” Of course. Of course he says that xD

And everyone’s immediately fighting I love it lol. I like the plurality (heh) of approaches here: Kennedy wants the truth, Aidan wants to ignore everything, Grace’s thinking in the police, and Vanessa helps Taylor express the whole “let’s chill for the night and meet for breakfast” idea.

I love the ending introspective segment for Ellis. Just really awesome stuff overall, and seeing a protagonist that, from the very start, is planning not to get attached to anyone and survive on their own in some way. We know that’s probably not gonna last in the slightest, but it’s still a really cool mindset to explore from a protag’s perspective.

Overall, as expected, nothing but absolute peak.

Notes we have so far:

Staff Members

Customer Service Desk

Monoquin's Hands

Killing Game Explanation

(In case it isn't clear, since I'm writing down my reactions, I always have the list of notes under what I'm currently writing in case I need them lol)

I can’t believe this is out, it’s so exciting!!! I love this so far. All the characters seem super Silly, which I always love to see. The protagonist is cool and interesting, the format is very fun, the talents are very exciting, the writing in general is immaculate… I can’t wait for more! If I have time, I might write something a bit more in-depth, or I might wait until we have more content before really going insane (<- I say as if I'm not already insane over this lol). In any case, thanks for reading, bye!

13 notes · View notes

honeymochibubbletea · 9 months ago

Note

☆~Dr. Phantasmo with Dottie~☆:

When the two finally arrived at Phantasmo’s mansion, Dottie starts worrying about what he would do to her

He strapped her to a chair and used a finger to lift her chin. He started caressing her face gently and intimidatingly. She was shaking like a chihuahua with dread and started to cry, Phantasmo upon seeing his “guest” crying like that, tries to reassure her that he won’t do anything bad to her, he only wants to know the source of her scent. She stopped crying a little and just waited for his next moves

After some research, Phantasmo would discover two things: that Dottie is already in a relationship with Agatha Barret (Baguette cookie human’s name) and that she’s actually a humanoid cookie person! He looks at her with interest and mischievous curiosity, he knows he promised not to hurt her but… a few eggs must be broken in order to make a cookie hehehe~

He only cuts one of her fingers (you know, no big deal) off and analyzed her reaction and the finger itself: she obviously felt pain (no shit Sherlock) and the finger looked like a cookie on the inside and she was bleeding coffee jam

He’s fascinated by this and… he teasingly eats the finger in front of her (you know, no big deal again) and she’s horrified by this:

Dottie: h-hey…! You’ll will have to bake a new finger for me! Why did you do this?!

Phantasmo: because sometimes i feel “hungry” to get more information about my “guests”~

Dottie: you literally ate my finger!

After some more research, Phantasmo would discover that it is possible to bake new body parts for the host if they lose a member or a little finger. Of course that Dottie is the one who showed him that, since he forgot how to bake things, usually it was T-oby who did that for him

After this little “disagreement”, they slowly were starting to become friends… and then, something more~

Of course, Dottie would still date Agatha. But now she, Phantasmo and Agatha were in a poly relationship! :D (of course, at first Agatha was very against also dating Phantasmo because he’s a criminal and a villain, these two wouldn’t get along so well… but since they both loved the same person, they started to tolerate each other’s presence)

Phantasmo’s favorite part of sniffing Dottie would be her hair, it’s where her coffee scent is the most stronger

Their size difference would be very visible and Phantasmo loves to embarrass and intimidate her with his size~ he would a lot of times press her against his chest just to hear her yelp, hehehe~

He loves calling her doll, darling or bittie (which would be a “new” word he created to not necessarily call her sweetie, since she was more bitter than sweet… after all he ate her finger soooo…)

Sometimes he would beg her to eat another finger but she would give him a dry no, but when he begs just right (and too much too) she just sighs and lets him LIGHTLY chew on her fingers

(He also loves licking her face sometimes too, hehehehahaha!)

She would be his conscience whenever he wants to do something evil or bad. And also threat to leave him if he doesn’t stop doing his evil shenanigans

He loves squeezing her cheeks, that’s it, that’s the headcanon. (I’m just a sucker for villains who squeeze their loved ones cheeks)

☆~Dr. Phantasmo with Coffee Candy Cookie ~☆:

How did Dottie ended up in Phantasmo’s plate? Well: since she and baguette cookie works at the TBD, they both were sent to go to Phantasmo’s mansion to change his ways by reminding him of his past, since he always seem to forget it

When they arrived at Phantasmo’s kitchen, they were mistaken by T-oby as gingerbread man cookies that he made for his dad and he quickly grabbed them and placed them on the plate: CCC was too afraid to speak up and BC decided that it was best to remain silent until they got to Phantasmo

As i previously wrote:

Phantasmo: hehehe~ it was “nice” meeting you~

And with that, Phantasmo crushed CCC without any trouble

Baguette cookie saw the whole scene unfold before her very eyes: she… was horrified… but also now extremely angry!

She clenched her fists and started shouting at Phantasmo, he quickly noticed her and also grabbed her:

Bc: H-how… dare you! She was my girlfriend! Y-you killed her…! You… you monster!

Phantasmo: oh please, relax, she’ll be fine… i’ll make a new body for her from scratch!

Bc: you’ll… make a… new body from scratch…? Do you… really mean that…?

Phantasmo: of course~ and i’ll shall make a new body for you as well~

Bc: w-wait-!

Before bc could do anything, she was also crushed to dust by Phantasmo

And so, he started working on making new bodies for the two cookies, but this time he would make them human!

He killed two borrowers that were hiding under his desk and mixed with the soul jam and life powder

After some testing, he finally brought them back to life!

CCC gasped for air and BC was sweating cold: they couldn’t believe that they were back to life! (But they were also glad)

Phantasmo: see~? I’ve told you that i could do this~

Bc: …was it REALLY necessary to kill us?

Phantasmo: Hmpf! You are really ungrateful! I could have eaten you two but no: i gave you new bodies! A thanks would be really welcomed…

Ccc: …uh… thanks for bringing us back…? Wait… who did you kill to make these bodies for us…? And how did you make us look like our older selves?

Phantasmo: …let’s not worry about the details so much… say, what were you two doing in my mansion? Hmm? For what purpose?

After bc told Phantasmo about their mission, he scratched his chin and then smiled mischievously:

Phantasmo: say… could i keep your little girlfriend as my pet~?

Bc: absolutely no!

Phantasmo: Hmpf, you don’t really have a say on this…

And since then they’ve been living with Phantasmo (much to their dismay and dislike of him): after all… they couldn’t return to their normal lives anymore, they were not cookies anymore and they are dependent of him…

Phantasmo loves to tease both of them but he clearly enjoys teasing ccc more

He always sew new clothes for them, but he makes the most prettier for ccc because of her scent

Mysteriously, their scents were still on them

Phantasmo changed their names to Dottie and Agatha, after all, they were not cookies anymore, were they?

Agatha hates Phantasmo with a passion and Dottie… she just sometimes afraid of him, sometimes she likes him

Phantasmo loves to lick Dottie just to scare her

He usually sleeps with them over his chest or on his “hair”

Oh? So you're sad that there's almost no one in this fandom? Well guess what, here's a crack ship idea for you: Dr. Phantasmo x Coffee candy cookie! Muhehehehe! >:3

(yes, i know: this won't magically bring more fans to the Telltown fandom but I thought that this would make you chuckle a little bit and continue to give you more inspiration to make art for this small fandom! Please, don't give up! 🥺)

Holy. Fucking. Shit bro! This, now THIS is what i am talking about!

Yes just:

☆~Fucking Y E S~☆

And like, this one crackship actually makes a little bit of sense, come on, COME ON, just, just HEAR👏ME👏OUT👏:

Phantasmo does like coffee a lot, doesn’t he? And coffee candy cookie is made of coffee, so: it would be a match made in heaven! Like, Phantasmo would never try to hurt her or experiment on her because her scent would be intoxicating to him (he would be sort of a little addicted to her coffee scent) and she would have a big and strong ghost to protect her from whoever or whatever tries to hurt her in any way!

And like, i have now some ideas i cooked here for you guys!

Here’s two versions: the human one (where coffee candy cookie is a human and her name would be Dottie) and the cookie one!

☆~Dr. Phantasmo with Dottie~☆:

So, like: you would be probably thinking, “ah but Honey mochi, if Phantasmo would be over heels for coffee candy cookie because of her scent as a cookie, how and why would he be over heels for her as a human if she doesn’t smell like coffee?” And ahahaha! Allow me to explain it to you >:)

I’m still figuring it out but, like, Dottie wouldn’t be a normal ordinary human: she would be a humanoid cookie person! (Basically, she would look like a human but have the features of a cookie: like, instead of blood, she would have coffee jam for example) So she would still have her coffee scent! ;D

With that out of the way, we can begin the headcanons!

These two would have met in a cafe where Phantasmo was looking (as usual) for victims for his experiments. He would quickly steal (because of course he isn’t going to pay for something he can’t even drink) a bag of coffee beans to make at home when he instantly smelled a delicious coffee scent coming from a apparently human girl…?

At first he was confused as to why and how this scent was coming from her. But quickly his confusion would become a curiosity and he was determined to find out how and why this girl has a strong coffee scent

He would overly confidently approach her and start some small talk with her:

Phantasmo: hello there darling~ I couldn’t help but notice that you have a strong scent of coffee coming from you, could i know how and why is that possible~?

Dottie: . . .I… w-who are you…?

Phantasmo: Ah~ where are my manners~? Dr. Phantasmo but… you especially may call me Phanta~

Dottie’s face goes pale from fear: she has heard about this infamous individual before. She quickly tries to get up to get out of there but Phantasmo had already grabbed her arm and lifted it above her head:

Phantasmo: Ah~ Ah~ Ah~ we don’t want to bring any… unnecessary attention, do we now darling~?

Dottie desperately tries to punch him and now the whole cafe was looking at the two and some people from the staff were trying to help her out, but Phantasmo (who honestly was having his patience on a thread with this whole situation) pulled out a gun and pointed at Dottie (don’t worry! The gun is fake, but no one needs to know about this besides Phantasmo):

Phantasmo: if any of you DARES to approach us, she dies~ am i clear? Good.

And when no one dared to challenge him, Phantasmo very calmly lifted effortlessly Dottie and placed her over his shoulder and started to float away with her as his hostage

She would yell and punch Phantasmo’s back until she would get tired of panicking so much and just, kind of give up

Aaaaand on my next post i’ll write more about CCC “human” version, i promise (it’s because it’s already midnight as i am writing this and i’m tired as fuuuuuck hahaha…)

☆~Dr. Phantasmo with Coffee Candy Cookie ~☆:

These two would have met when CCC was looking for her girlfriend (Baguette Cookie) and somehow ended up in Phantasmo’s plate (also going to explain better how on my next post). Just when he picked her up to eat her (yes, yes i know, I KNOW: Phantasmo can’t CANONICALLY eat nor drink anything but this is all just some silly headcanons, soooo… on MY headcanons he can eat and drink, okay? Okay.) she desperately tries to shout and plead for her life

Phantasmo looked around to see who was talking with him, he just shrugged it off and when he was about to eat her, he opened his eyes and saw that the cookie he was going to eat was… alive…? He looked at her confused but also intrigued

He brought her closer to his face and started to examine her more closely:

Phantasmo: my… are my eyes and ears deceiving me or did you just… talked right now…?

CCC: …Y-yes… i am a living being you k-know…! You should be more careful when picking up cookies to eat! Some are alive!

Phantasmo: …My my… i must have really gone insane! Look at me: talking with a cookie! Gosh… but oh well, it’s like the saying: “if you’re crazy, just embrace your craziness” or something like that… say my delicious little “friend”, how in the world are you alive?

CCC: I… it’s because of the life powder that the witches use to create us… or so i believe is that…

Phantasmo: pfft, always magic… why don’t people just use the good old science to create life anymore? Well, it’s been a fun little chat with you but now i’m going to eat yo-

CCC: N-NO!!! Please don’t! I’ll do anything, ANYTHING j-just… don’t eat me… please…

Phantasmo: pffft buahahahahaha!!! Now that’s a good one: how exactly do you plan on being USEFUL for me~? I mean, you’re just a little treat in my eyes~

CCC: h-hey…! I can be u-useful…! Just please, give me a chance!

Phantasmo: hmm… yeah… maybe, just maybe you could be useful to me~ answer me this: how exactly do i, let’s just say, take your life powder out of you~?

CCC: W-well… we cookies also have soul jams but these two things are fused with our dough so… w-wait… y-you are… you are not REALLY considering doing what i think you are going to do… are y-you…?

Phantasmo: Hehehe~ it was “nice” meeting you~

To be continued… on my next post :p

#dr. phantasmo #coffee candy cookie #baguette cookie #cookie run #telltown #writing #writers on tumblr #writers #reblog stuff #reblogs over likes please…#for this post at least #i know i said that phantasmo would never hurt coffee candy cookie but…#oh well #guess i lied #sorry not really sorry

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miekasa · 4 years ago

Text

slow hands

+ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

+ genre and warnings: fluff, some angst? but hardly, levi is the sweetest, please do not mistake his quiet affections for apathy or lovelessness

+ word count: 3k

+ summary: based off of a request about physical affection and acts of service being levi’s love languages—which i agree! i’m so happy you asking about that, i could write essays about how physical touch is important to levi, but instead, i will leave you with this for now lol

i. in crowded spaces (so you don’t get lost, or so he claims)

Levi isn’t particularly fond of the way you like to go shopping in the inner walls. He is, however, fond of you; so he forgoes the prissy upper-class men and overall stingy aura of Wall Sina’s inhabitants just so you can get your favorite kind of bread and fruit.

Today, it seems like everyone and their mother wanted to visit the outdoor markets, despite the scheming merchants and obviously overpriced merchandise. From the crowd to the noise level, none of it is really up Levi’s alley; but he has to admit, watching people fail to successful haggle the price of eggs is immensely amusing to him.

What isn’t amusing is the way you keep stopping in the middle of the square, distracted by anything remotely shiny or with a pleasant smell you come across. Levi stops in his tracks, sensing a lack of your presence behind him; he turns around, and sure enough, you’re standing a few meters away, squinting at the price written above the basket of apples in front of you.

He sighs, trudging back to you, and watching from a step away as you scan over the fruit scrutinizingly. The merchant behind the stand does his best at selling you his product, boasting about how the fruit is fresh and hand-picked, and some other bullshit.

“These look good,” you muse to yourself, picking up a single, red apple in your palm for closer observation, “I could make a pie for the kids later.”

“Ah, pretty and she cooks, what a woman,” the bearded merchant smiles, adjusting his hat as he looks at you.

He only seems to notice Levi’s presence when he pushes forward just a little bit, looking at the apples, bored, then to the man, who speaks to him next, “Can I interest you in a basket, too, sir?”

Levi doesn’t respond with anything but a slight shake of his head, before looking back to you. You’re standing upright now, having placed your sample apple back with the rest, unfazed by Levi standing next to you; like you were completely unaware you’d left him in the first place.

He holds back a scoff. You can be so unaware of your surroundings at times, he honestly thinks it’s a miracle that you make it back from your missions alive. You’re also seemingly unaware of just how many inner wall pigs flirt with you, as you look completely oblivious to the advances of the merchant, who offers you two baskets for the price of one—the only caveat being that you allow him to take you on a date later that evening.

Levi lolls his head to the side, tired eyes gazing at the old man who tries to cut himself a bargain. He knows you’re prepared to give an overly polite and nonchalant response to wave the man off, but Levi doesn’t have time for your pleasantries today.

Quietly, he reaches for your free hand, lacing your fingers together firmly before pulling you away from the merchant and the stand.

“Levi!” you call for him, borderline whining, “I wasn’t actually going to agree to a date with him, but the apples—”

“There’s a stand a few streets over that Hange claims is better than anything she’s ever eaten,” Levi grumbles, questioning under his breath about where the hell the piece of shit men in the interior get their audacity from, “And you don’t need two baskets. One is enough.”

Levi doesn’t turn your way, so he misses the fond look in your eyes and the small curve to your lips. He does, however, feel the way you wrap your other arm around his, leaning into him gently as to not disturb your stride as you keep walking.

“But I want to have enough to make a pie for the kids, later,” you tell him, slowly rubbing your thumb against the fabric of his blazer.

Levi scoffs audibly this time. “You don’t have to make shit for them.”

“I don’t have to do shit for anyone,” you smile, “But they’re just kids, Levi. Besides, I know you like pie, too, you big baby.”

Levi doesn’t say anything at that, only choosing to flash you an unamused scowl, before pulling you down a smaller, less crowded street.

“Let’s just get the fucking apples and go home,” he says, decidedly, passing by a group of MPs sharing a flask, “I don’t know how much longer I can stay in the interior without snapping some pig’s head off.”

ii. during long meetings

Levi thinks that if Erwin weren’t Commander, he could probably make a living as a pastor with the way he preaches for hours on end.

It’s going on hour two of this long, drawn-out strategy meeting, and Levi knows that he’s not the only one about to lose his fucking marbles. Albeit, he’s much more composed than some other people around the table; he still wants to retire to his office for the evening. Even the mountain of paperwork waiting for him would be more entertaining than this.

Levi listens, admittedly a little more carefully, when you speak up, offering information about the layouts of a small town destroyed on your last expedition, where you’d lost a member of your own squad. Erwin nods, looking back down at his map to take your words into consideration.

Levi looks to his right where you’re seated, notices the guilt flash in your eyes as you think about your last failed expedition. It wasn’t your fault, and you know that; but he knows, more than anyone, how difficult it can be to lose one of your own soldiers.

Quietly, he lifts his teacup with his right hand, and places it down in front of you. He says nothing beyond an almost unnoticeable nod towards the cup once it’s within your reach, before looking back towards Erwin and Armin.

If anyone else seemed to notice his gesture, they don’t make it known. Except for Hange, of course, who flashes him a knowing grin before resuming her conversation.

Levi knows you’ve finished the tea when he feels your hand resting lightly atop his knee, tapping your index and middle fingers against his pants—a silent thank you. In the middle of his own conversation, he doesn’t turn to you or say much other than slipping his right hand on top of yours, loosely curling his fingers between the slits of yours.

His hand stays there for the rest of the meeting, his thumb rubbing slow, unidentifiable patterns into the skin on the back of your hand; an empty teacup, and a mutual gratitude between the two of you.

iii. when you’re working too hard (or for too long)

If not the gigantic humanoid monsters out to swallow you whole, the paperwork is probably the worst part about being a captain in the Survey Corps. Levi would know, having spent countless nights up reading proposals, approving plans, signing documents, filling out death certificates.

It can be grueling work, even if it is, essentially, reading and writing whilst being sat at a desk. And while, sometimes, he can admit that the paperwork is more bearable than his own nightmares; he knows that for you, it holds no such solace.

If anyone thought that Levi worked himself to the bone, they must not have met you. Your meticulous mannerisms and work ethic could almost make him seem sloppy by comparison. It’s not uncommon to find you training yourself or your cadets into the ground, theorizing with Hange and Erwin, or—Levi’s personal least favorite—hunched over your desk, eyes scanning away at stacks of ink-ridden papers.

You must be five or six hours in by now, if he’s calculated correctly. The last time he saw you was around midday, when he’d been watching you spar with Jean. It’s dark out now, the other cadets and soldiers having retired to their rooms for the evening after dinner.

“You’ll end up a hunchback if you keep this up,” he drawls upon entering your office. He watches as your head snaps up to him; he figured you hadn’t even heard him enter, seeing as you didn’t respond to his knocking. He wonders how it’s possible for you to be so aloof, yet so scrupulous all at once.

Embarrassed, more likely at your lack of awareness than his comment, you push yourself up a little bit, elbows on your desk and fingers crossed. “You’re not exactly one to talk, you know.”

Levi only hums at your jab, inching towards your desk. He likes the way your eyes track his movements as his proximity to you increases, stepping around your desk to stand behind your chair.

“Sit up,” he orders, voice soft yet firm.

He waits for you to straighten your back, but frowns when you scoot your chair closer to your desk after doing so. He takes it upon himself to move your chair back, ignoring the terrible squeaking of the wood scraping across the floor. Well, at least that was an indication that the floors were clean.

“I can’t write if I’m this far from my desk,” you complain, just as the palms of Levi’s hands make contact with your shoulders.

“Good thing I’m not asking you to write anything,” Levi replies, digging the heels of his hands into your shoulder muscles. This would work better with your shirt off, he muses to himself, but this would have to do.

You open your mouth to protest, but your words fall short on your tongue, an exhale of relief coming out instead as Levi continues to massage your shoulders. Levi can feel you melting into his actions, your body going slack and the knots in your muscles uncoiling themselves. He counts about five minutes in passing before he hears your breath calm, too; the shallow exhales of your overworked body replaced with deep inhalations and extended sighs.

He lightens his movements as his massage comes to and end. The palm of his left hand runs across your throat gently, allowing him to tuck his thumb and index finger under your chin, and tilt your head backwards for you to face him. Levi’s thumb pads against your jaw line as you look up at him, and him back at you.

Finally, he leans down, his lips making contact with your forehead for a gentle kiss, “You work too hard.”

“I learned from the best,” and just as gently, you reach your arm up and backwards, your palm clumsily finding its way to Levi’s hair, pulling him down, towards your lips this time, “You take such good care of me.”

“Obviously,” Levi mumbles, stealing another kiss between his words, “That’s my job, brat.”

iv. during dinner time

The Mess Hall is among Levi’s least favorite places, for obvious reasons; but he does enjoy sharing a meal with you, and ensuring that you’ve eaten a full serving to sustain yourself.

He can look past Hange and Nanaba’s overly enthusiastic conversations, despite sitting directly across each other, Erwin’s sloppy eating habits, and the overall rowdy atmosphere of the Mess Hall, as long as he has you beside him to numb the pain. Which is why he’s been exceptionally grumpy these past two weeks, as you’ve taken to sitting with some of the younger cadets during dinner time.

It’s not unusual and it doesn’t surprise him, or anyone really; everyone can see how much they all adore you. Especially Mikasa, strangely enough. Probably because of the way you treat Eren, and how much he and Armin look up to you; and probably because she was your first pick to fill a vacancy in your squad.

He walks with you across the floor, the both of you holding your own tray of food—a watery soup, some bread, and a piece of fruit as a treat. He knows you won’t finish your soup, and that he’ll have to give you half of his bread to make up for it; but he also knows you’ll slice up your apple for him to eat in exchange.

So Levi is not too happy when he sees Eren waving your way, the clumsy idiot almost hitting Armin in the head from the uncoordinated shaking of his hand. You smile at the younger boy, turning your body to walk towards his table.

Levi, however, stops your stride before it can begin, pulling tactfully at the back of your shirt, and forcing you to turn back around. He pokes at the nape of your neck, gently pushing you forwards, and in the direction of the table where Erwin, Hange, Mike and Moblit are seated.

You seem to get his silent message, flashing Levi a sweet smile before turning to offer Eren a sorry glance as you continue to head in the direction of the table with your colleagues. Levi hums when you start walking again, following closely behind you, and turning back to offer Eren a not-so-sorry, not-so-friendly glare.

Levi was getting his apple sliced for him today, whether the brats liked it or not.

“You know, you should sit with them sometime,” you tell him, breaking his small loaf in half to dip it into your soup, “They admire you a lot.”

“I think they’d shit their pants if shorty even came near their table,” Hange jokes, earning chuckles from some of your colleagues.

Levi says nothing and refrains from rolling his eyes. He could care less about the admiration they hold for him, or for you. If Eren and Amin wanted to spend time with you that badly, then they should train their asses off and make it onto your squad.

“Oi,” you call to him, mocking his voice and tone, “Here, they gave us yellow ones today, I know they’re your favorite.”

Levi shoves you with his elbow affectionately, before taking the slice of apple from your hold. He chews gratefully, heart beating against his chest in admiration as you carefully place the rest of the slices on his tray.

He squeezes your thigh in thanks under the table once you’ve finished slicing both apples for him. Sure, he could do it himself, and sure he could technically see you in your room whenever he wants, but that’s not the point; Levi will be damned if he catches any of those other brats with his apple slices.

v. when you come home

It’s not often that Levi becomes overly worried about your well-being, as backwards and apathetic as it may seem to other people. He trusts you, and knows that you’re stronger than you look—stronger than him, even—and he has no reason to doubt you; you’ve always come back to him.

But now, it’s going on eleven days since your squad was supposed to return from specially designed and assigned mission from Erwin himself, and Levi was beginning to let his nerves get the best of him.

He knows he’s not the only one getting antsy for some kind of message—any kind of sign at all—that you and your men were okay. Two days ago, Hange had pestered Erwin for the greater part of an hour about sending just one more tracking squad to look for yours; Mikasa and Armin hovered around for any news that you had returned, and that you’d brought Eren back unharmed; hell, even Mike had come to check in with him, rocking on his feet, asking Levi if there had been any news from you.

It’s dark out now, the day coming to a close, marking the twelfth night since your estimated return date. Levi sighs, untucking himself from his desk, intent on marching down to Erwin’s office and demanding he let him go look for you.

“You know we have to give it fourteen days, at least,” Erwin sighs.

“That’s a bullshit rule and you know it,” Hange interjects, having burst into the room only seconds after Levi; hung up on your lack of return just as much as he was.

Of course she is—you’re Hange’s closest friend. Not to mention, you’d taken Moblit with you on your mission, setting Hange’s work back significantly without the presence of her valuable second.

“I know,” Erwin nods, “But the first tracking squad found no evidence of any bodies. They’re most likely alive.”

“All of them?” Hange questions, incredulous and hopeful.

“That’s what we hope for,” Erwin responds, voice heavy. He looks to Levi, “She’ll come back. She always does.”

Levi knows that; he knows. But he still can’t shake this feeling. He opens his mouth to refute, when Sasha comes bumbling into Erwin’s office, heaving.

“Commander Erwin, Captain (Y/N)’s squad has just returned!” Sasha squeaks, “No casualties, four in the infirmary now with minor wounds, but nobody’s in critical condition, sir.”

Levi can barely register the young girl’s words, before he’s storming towards the infirmary, desperately searching for your familiar face amongst the soldiers in the cots. He sees Moblit amongst some of your other men and hastily asks him about your whereabouts.

“She had Eren,” Moblit tells him calmly, wincing slightly as a nurse rubs alcohol into the cut along his arm, “I thought she’d take him here—maybe in one of the smaller rooms across the hall?”

Levi nods, grateful, and moves so that Hange can squish Moblit with her affections, heading towards the hallway. He sees just a sliver of light coming from a room two doors down, and he doesn’t hesitate to search for you there.

He all but bursts through the door, relieved to find you tying and cutting a bandage around Eren’s forehead. Levi wants to scold you for taking care of someone else wounds before attending to your own, but he doesn’t have time for that right now.

You stand up straight after you’re finished wrapping Eren’s larger cuts, with barely enough time to register that Levi’s entered the room before he has one hand around your waist, and the other cradling the back of your head.

Levi can feel that he’s knocked the wind out of you, but that doesn’t stop you from slowly wrapping your arms around him to complete the hug. He tucks his head into the juncture of your neck, ignoring the faint scrapes along your skin.

“You’re back,” he hums, holding you a little tighter against him.

Levi feels your laughter reverberate through his own body, as you mirror his hold on you; your right hand coming up to cradle the back of his head, your fingers loosely coiling into his hair.

“Of course I am,” you hum, reveling in Levi’s shallow breaths that tickle your neck, “I’ll always come back to you, Levi.”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot imagines #snk imagines #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman smut #eren x reader

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sheetsonfire · 3 years ago

Text

Second Chances

Fandom: Chicago Med

Characters: Connor Rhodes x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Warnings: swearing, car accident, injuries

Word Count: 1365

Requested By Anon: Hi ☺️ Could i request a Connor Rhodes imagine where the reader is his ex and also a nurse at the med. One time you get in a terrible car crash and get to the ER where Connor gets called to save you. You nearly die during the surgery but he saves you and stays with you all the time till you wake up. Then he keeps caring for you during your whole recovery and you slowly start getting your old feelings back, so you decide on a second chance. Hope this is ok ❤️

This is Part 1 - Part 2

You were a month into your newfound singleness, and depending on the day or the mood, it was either a blessing or curse. If you were being totally honest with yourself, you missed Connor endlessly, but that same inner honesty also reminded you that things just weren’t right for you and Connor at the time. He was still reconciling the things that had happened with Ava, with Robin moving away too… he had a lot to figure out, and you felt that your presence in his life was serving to distract him from the pain, but not much else.

He had tried to make the case that you weren’t just a distraction and though you didn’t doubt that he really believed that, you could see his heart wasn’t fully in it. You gave him a kiss on the cheek and told him that this wasn’t a “never”, this was just a “not yet” kind of thing. You advised him to really look and see what he wanted from the next part of his life, and you reassured yourself that if you were meant to be part of that you’d fall right back in there somewhere down the road.

Perhaps that was a naive outlook, somedays you chastised yourself for assuming that Connor would ever want you back after “breaking up” with him. But the split had been amicable, Connor didn’t fight you too much on the decision, his eyes betraying his mouth as you saw understanding and agreement in them.

And so that’s how it went, you cried your way through too many romantic comedies to count, listened to an ungodly amount of country music - which was your go-to comfort genre, and made good use of the new time with your friends at Molly’s. You didn’t hate Connor, you still very much cared for him, and you hoped he felt the same.

Work wasn’t as awkward as it could have been by all accounts, there would sometimes be shy smiles and nods of greeting in the corridors, you worked a few cases with him with little to no tension, and you found that for the most part, it was still okay to be by his side.

Chicago was now in the grip of winter’s cruelty in the midwest, you had just finished a lengthy and chaotic shift, full of road accidents, homeless people struggling out in the cold, and just general mayhem, despite Chicagoans being well-practised at dealing with this time of year.

You waved Monique and Maggie goodbye as you departed from your fellow nurses to get to your car. Shivering under the illumination of the parking lot lights your nose is numb, you’re desperate to get inside your car and start the heat. As you fiddle with your key to press the unlock button, you see a figure approaching. Squinting at the humanoid shape you can just about make out a familiar face in the contrasting shadow between artificial light and frigid darkness.

It was Connor.

You laugh a nervous laugh, relaxing at the sight of the surgeon. “Jesus, Con’, did you forget about nighttime and parking lot etiquette for women?”

He grimaces, chuckling apologetically himself, “Oh shit, Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t think at all, I just saw you leaving and I thought I’d say hey.”

You smile, looking around, feeling that rarely felt embarrassment around him, judging by his expression he seemed to be feeling the same, perhaps second guessing his decision to approach. You surprise yourself by not being quite sure what to say.

“Oh, well… hello then, ha… Wait, are you working now?” Connor didn’t typically work nights, but you hadn’t really been privy to his personal schedule of late, so who knew.

He scratches the top of his beanie covered head, nodding, “Ah yeah, Crockett went to visit family back in New Orleans, so I took up some of his shifts for the trauma service.”

“I see, that makes sense. Nice of you to offer…” Connor simply smiles and you get that butterfly feeling. You weren’t suddenly immune to him after all.

Unable to cope with even a beat of silence you gesture to your car, “...Well, I better get inside, and so should you, don’t want you freezing up before your shift even starts.”

You squirm under his gaze, he’s got that amused look on his face that you’d seen many times before, the “I just adore how cute are” look.

He snaps out of it and points in the direction of Med, “You’re right, I better. It was good seeing you, Y/N. Catch you later.” Offering you a departing wave.

“Good seeing you, Connor.” You call after him, suddenly getting that sinking feeling. Something you’d not felt in a little while since breaking up. You really did miss him, even if you thought this was all for the best…

Pulling out of the parking lot you have the heat cranked up, your fingers finally gaining feeling again inside your gloves, your nose tingling as the warm air defrosted it. You find you can’t take your mind off of Connor now, you didn’t know if it was the cold and your desire to cuddle up with someone, or if you just couldn’t shake the regret that sometimes snuck its way into your head.

True to your ritual of late, you had country music on in the car. More specifically a Garth Brooks playlist that had soothed you through many restless nights, drives and just any general moment where you were alone and idling.

You kept your eye on the flow of traffic as you tuned into the words of ‘Sometimes You’ve Got To Die To Live Again’, you almost laugh at yourself, feeling a little dramatic, yet giving it your all as you sing along.

Feels like starting over is the last thing I wanna do

Yeah, I'd keep it all the same if I could

'Cause everything I've ever been is all wrapped up in you

But somethin' tells me that a change would do us good

But sometimes you have to let your heart break

And sometimes the right choice is so hard to make

Tears spring into your eyes, taking a breath and a moment to compose yourself, your vision clearing as you move your car forward on North Halsted, no ‘a’, which always amused you still for obvious reasons. It reminded you of your dork of a friend, Will Halstead. You thought about the other doctor for a second, he had invited you out for drinks with him, Jay, and some of the others from Intelligence. They were friends you hadn’t seen in a while, and you could do with some cheering up. So you make a mental note to text Will when you got home, changing the gear as you keep the car moving, Garth still singing for you in the background.

You and the other cars in the lane behind you don’t see it coming until it's too late. The flash of headlights burns your retinas, the screeching of tires is all around, and the full force of a pickup truck slams into your side of the car, ramming the vehicle into the wall of an apartment building. The metal bows the car interior inwards, pinning your leg in as your head snaps from side to side, glass and shrapnel flying around in the space. More cars join the chaos as they don’t stand the chance to move out of the way, the impact of their weight only further pressing you against the building, the truck and the tree that completed the triangle.

Then, it stops.

Your vision swims violently, smoke and vapour roll through the vents of your car, coughing as you try and figure out if you’re still alive. The sound of shouts, horns, screams and sirens seem all so far away as your ears ring, an intense sharpness in your ribs makes you groan, hissing as your sensations start to rush back. The muffled sound of Garth still singing is the last thought that follows you into unconsciousness.

And sometimes it's no use saving your own skin

'Cause sometimes you've got to die to live again

End Of Part 1

A/N: There will definitely be a part 2, maybe even 3!

#connor rhodes x reader #chicago med #one chicago #second chances

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gojo-x-reader · 4 years ago

Text

Not So Special Now

Relationship(s): F!Reader x Gojo Satoru

Warnings: canon-typical violence

Tags: fluff (at the end), reader-focused

AO3 Link: here

Words: ~4k

Request: “hello there, i love ur soulmate and marriage life hc 🥺 can you make scenario/hc/drabble whatever u prefer where his fem/gn so is also a sorcerer and gets hurt/injured on a mission? thank you!”

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Your boyfriend, Satoru, asked you. His hands were on your biceps, giving it a worried, yet comforting squeeze.

“Yes, Satoru,” you answered, a little annoyed at how he was treating you. It’s been several years since either of you were in high school; this wasn’t your first mission.

“I can’t help but worry, you know. It’s your first ever special grade assignment.”

“Just because I’m not the same rank as you, Mr. Special Grade, doesn’t mean I’m weak. Besides, there are two others going so I’m not doing this alone.”

“I know, I know.” Satoru pressed his lips gently onto your forehead, then gazed into your eyes lovingly. In a rare instance while on the job, his blindfold was replaced with dark sunglasses. You reached up to shift them down, allowing you to gaze into his bright blue eyes. They were breathtaking no matter how many times you saw them. You moved your hands from his glasses to his shoulders, forcing him down so you could reach up to leave a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I’ll see you tonight,” you promised.

The two of you embraced one more time before you joined your other group members for the mission. You turned back and waved at him as the three of you entered the car to be driven to the location for your mission.

“Sure wish Gojo-san was coming with us,” one of them mused. “He could handle this mission single-handedly and we could just stay home.” He sighed deeply, then put in headphones and stared out the window.

“Why isn’t he taking this mission?” your other group member asked. She stared at you, eager to know.

You had just met these two today (not even knowing their names, except that they were both Grade 1 sorcerers like you) and you weren’t sure how well this mission would go. “Well,” you began, “for one, he works best alone. Second, Satoru fights best when he’s away from civilians.”

The girl hummed, then crossed her arms in thought. The three of you awkwardly rode in silence for about five minutes, before the girl grabbed your arm suddenly. “Soooo, how long have you been dating Gojo Satoru?” She asked eagerly. There was something about her that seemed familiar, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

You weren’t sure why this was any business of someone you just met, but you decided to indulge her to hopefully make this awkward car ride, well, less awkward.

“Two years, almost three,” you answered. The two of you had known each other since high school, but it wasn’t until almost four years ago that you had reconnected after you moved back to Tokyo, and almost three years ago when you started dating. To this day you still had no clue why he would get a crush on you over all people. There were much prettier girls he had spent more time with, why you?

“Annnnd? A ring soon?” She gushed, gripping your arm harder.

You shrugged. Satoru and you had discussed marriage at some point, but both of you were busy at the moment, especially with Ryomen Sukuna being somewhat revived into the world. While Yuuji was still technically “dead” to others, Satoru had trusted you enough to tell you about how his student had pretty much been revived from the dead. On your days off, you often visited your boyfriend and helped out with Yuuji’s training regime. He was a nice kid, despite his circumstances and being thrown into the jujutsu world suddenly.

The girl let go of your arm and got out her phone, furiously typing to someone. “Oh, my little sister won’t be happy to hear about this.”

“Little sister?”

“Yeah, my sister Momo goes to Kyoto. She’s pretty close with another girl, Kasumi, who I consider almost like another younger sister. She was super excited to meet Gojo-san a week ago. She’s like a superfan of him or something. I like to indulge her sometimes. I think she even made a fan club for Gojo-san or something. Anyways, Momo, even though she’s friends with Kasumi, she often gets annoyed with her talk about Gojo-san.”

You vaguely remember Satoru mentioning a girl from Kyoto that asked him for a picture. It wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence for your boyfriend to be asked to take pictures with, from the jujutsu world or from civilians; he had devastatingly good looks, so you couldn’t blame any of the people who asked for pictures. Besides, you knew his heart belonged to you and you only, so you were fine with others recognizing his allure.

“Oh, Kasumi’s calling me,” the girl said. She answered her phone, only for a younger voice to scream over the speaker. It was loud enough that you could hear it. Your teammate held her phone away from her ear.

“What do you mean he has a girlfriend?”

“Oh, come on Kasumi. You know how handsome he is. Besides, he’s like, what, twenty-eight? Twenty-nine?”

“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine in December,” you confirmed.

“Way too old for you, ma’am,” the girl relayed to Kasumi.

“I don’t like him like that , Sumi-san! I j-just really admire him, okay! W-Who wouldn’t? World’s strongest jujutsu sorcerer in all.”

“Mhm. Anyway, I’ve got a mission today with the said girlfriend of Gojo Satoru. Want me to get you an autograph?” Sumi joked.

“...Could you?”

You let out a tiny laugh. This girl was funny, so you decided to humor her and leaned toward the phone. “One autograph for Kasumi?”

“M-Miwa Kasumi!” the voice on the phone squeaked out. She told you what kanji made up her name as you rummaged for a scrap piece of paper and pen from your bag. You made out the autograph, laughing a bit as you handed it to Sumi.

After you told her you signed an autograph for her, Kasumi said goodbye, hanging up the phone before Sumi could reply goodbye back. She seemed embarrassed about the ordeal.

“You were right, she seems like a good kid.”

“Kasumi is nice. She really balances out how serious my little sister Momo is,” Sumi responded.

For the rest of the car ride, you and Sumi chatted. Apparently, this was also her first Special Grade mission, as well as her first mission after graduating from Kyoto. Their other group member was also from Kyoto; he was two years Sumi’s senior. His name was Takahashi Daisuke. She didn’t know much about him since he tended to keep to himself. But she did know this wasn’t his first Special Grade mission. That relieved you substantially since you were nervous about this mission (as much as you didn’t want to admit to Satoru).

Eventually, the roads transformed from paved to just dirt. The driver turned onto a road on a hill, then began briefing the three of you on your mission. This was a Special Grade, suspected to be awakened by a Sukuna finger. This was just based on speculation, since the last Special Grade to pop up was from a Sukuna finger as well. The Special Grade had taken over an abandoned shrine, supposedly terrorizing the local village just down the hill (which had been evacuated just hours before). As the driver parked the car, the three of you exited the car. The air was crisp, with a distinct chill in the air. You could sense a particularly strong cursed energy in the premises, on par with Satoru’s cursed energy. You shuddered; this was not going to be an easy task.

The driver placed a curtain around the area, the sky darkening. It only made the situation seem even more grave. There was something in your gut telling you to run, not from being scared of the Special Grade, but because something bad was going to happen.

Sumi grabbed a wand from her belt. Her family was a pretty small sorcerer family on her mother’s side, as she had told you in the car. She and her sister have cursed techniques similar to “witches”; hers involved spells while her sister’s involved levitating a broom, among other objects.

Your cursed techniques, however, involved nature. There was a reason why you were selected specifically for this mission; the shrine was in the middle of the forest, the perfect place for you to go wild. Cities like Tokyo were incredibly constraining for you to use your cursed techniques, so you almost exclusively were assigned missions out in the country where nature was plentiful.

Neither you nor Sumi knew what Daisuke’s cursed technique was, but you assumed it was pretty strong considering he had been on missions with Special Grades before.

The mission started off fine. The three of you approached the shrine. It wasn’t particularly impressive, nothing that you would expect to house a Special Grade curse. The stone torii at the entrance was standing tall, unbothered by neither age nor the moss and vines growing on it. The shrine itself, however, was crumbling. One of the pillars holding up the roof was destroyed, so the roof was lopsided. The shimenawa knots were cut in half, the ends completely frayed. Definitely not a good sign.

After crossing the torii , you felt the Special Grade’s presence. It was overwhelming, unlike anything else you had experienced before. It possessed near-equal amounts of cursed energy as Satoru, but unlike your boyfriend, it held malicious intent within its cursed energy. To your left, Sumi was shaking. You held out a shaky hand onto her shoulder and squeezed. While you yourself didn’t feel confident about this mission now, you had a duty as the oldest member of the group here to be strong, for their sake.

The shrine began to shake, then the roof was suddenly blown off. You used your cursed technique to form a barrier of tree roots that erupted from the ground. Slabs of wood hit the roots, then bounced off. After the rain of wood subsided, you controlled the roots back into the ground in their original position.

You finally got a good look at the Special Grade curse. It was humanoid, but only in form. Its flesh was midnight blue, with eyes covering every centimeter of its body. Great, it had no blind spots. The curse had no apparent mouth, yet you were able to hear it let out an intimidating roar.

Daisuke made the first strike. He quickly pointed a handgun at the Special Grade and pulled the trigger. Out came a burst of his own cursed energy instead of a bullet. The blow just grazed the Special Grade enough for it to let out a screech of pain. Interesting, so this was his cursed energy. You wondered if it was limited to guns, or if he could apply it to a bow as well and use his cursed energy for arrows. You’d have to ask him later after this mission was completed.

It was apparent after Daisuke revealed his cursed technique that all of you were primarily distance fighters. There wasn’t much Sumi could do if her cursed technique focused on spells through her wand apparatus and Daisuke seemed to only have a gun on him. So, that meant you had to switch to a melee approach.

You weren’t the biggest fan of hand to hand combat. You weren’t very strong, preferring to assist from a distance. Recently, Satoru has been helping you learn new ways of fighting in close quarters. You decided to take the risk and make an attempt at using this still relatively new technique. You reached out your hands, summoning leaves from the trees. They surrounded your fists like boxing gloves, your cursed energy reinforcing the leaves to be almost as hard as the bark from the trees they came from.

You sprinted toward the Special Grade, preparing to land a blow. As you reared back for a punch, the Special Grade disappeared from in front of you. Then you felt a blow land on your back and you were sent through the forest until a particularly thick tree stopped your projectile body. Luckily, you reacted quickly enough to reinforce your front with cursed energy. If it wasn’t for your quick thinking, you probably would’ve been knocked out immediately.

You picked yourself up from the ground, but the world was spinning. You leaned against a tree to collect your thoughts and rest a bit. The Special Grade was insanely fast and had no blind spots. You were panicking; this was well out of your skillset. Perhaps Daisuke was right; Satoru should’ve joined in on this mission. But you knew that wasn’t possible, as he also had his own Special Grade mission to handle today.

You brought a hand up to your face and gave yourself a hard smack. This was no time to doubt yourself or panic. You had two comrades out there fighting a Special Grade curse alone. There was no doubt that the Special Grade would notice you if you tried to rejoin the fight, at least on the ground. Your best bet would be to get the high ground; there would be fewer eyes on the top half, so the chances of you being noticed would be less than if you arrived by foot.

Okay, you had an idea. Now, to get an idea of how the fight was going. You kneeled down to the ground and placed your hand onto the ground, closing your eyes. You sent a minimal, hardly detectable pulse of cursed energy toward the fight through the ground. From what nature informed you, the fight was mostly one-sided in favor of the Special Grade. Daisuke was pretty beat up, and Sumi wasn’t in good shape either.

You got up then hurriedly began climbing the nearest tree. As you climbed up, you manipulated the bark to form grooves for you to place your hands and feet on. As you reached a decent height, you created a bridge with the overlapping tree branches sturdy enough for your weight. You sprinted across the bridge, ignoring your double vision. You definitely had a concussion, but now was not the time for you to worry about that. You didn’t wanna lose your comrades on this mission. Not again.

You wiped the tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes. In your final year of Tokyo High, your two classmates were killed right before your eyes on a mission. You escaped out of pure luck, but was determined to get stronger to avenge their deaths. If you let those two die… well, then, that meant you hadn’t gotten strong enough to protect anyone else.

Once you were just out of sight range of the cursed spirit, you closed your eyes to sense the battle again. Sumi was sitting on the ground, back to a tree as she watched the fight between Daisuke and the Special Grade. She was barely conscious, and it seemed like she had lost a lot of blood. You had an idea, but in order for it to work, you needed her help.

Using thin vines, you sent a message within her sight: I am still alive. I’m going to trap the Special Grade curse with branches. Use a fire spell on it when it’s bound.

All you could hope was that she was able to read the message and had enough cursed energy to cast the spell. You began moving branches from distant trees close to the Special Grade, as fast as possible without your cursed energy being detected. Once they were close enough, you waited for the right moment.

As Daisuke finally landed a hit with his cursed energy, moving the curse to the center of the shrine remnants, you launched your attack. The branches extended as fast as you could make them move. The hit Daisuke landed had temporarily slowed the Special Grade, enough for your branches to immobilize it. As the branches gripped the curse, Sumi sent a fire spell toward it, just as planned.

The branches (and the cursed spirit) caught on fire. But something was wrong; normally, you could extract cursed energy from a curse with your cursed technique to exorcise, but that wasn’t happening. Was it resisting? You felt a tug on the branches.

Without thinking, you acted on your own. You re-equipped the leaves cursed technique, as you jumped from the trees above. As gravity brought you closer to the Special Grade, you reared back to prepare the punch you had wanted to introduce it to earlier. As your fist landed on the curse, you allowed the leaves to leave your fist, sending it into the curse’s body. The leaves caught on fire before they entered the curse, imploding it.

So, you managed to exorcise the Special grade. But, doing so took all of your cursed energy and you had no more left to cushion your fall. Luckily, you managed to adjust your fall so that you slid on your stomach parallel to the ground instead of falling headfirst. It still hurt, and you definitely broke a few ribs doing that.

You somehow had enough energy to turn yourself onto your back, looking up at the starry night sky as the curtain was released. Your first Special Grade mission. Everyone lived and you exorcised it without Satoru’s help. Ha. He would be so proud of you.

You began to fall into unconsciousness right as you felt familiar arms lift you up.

When you woke up, you were in Shoko’s infirmary. There was a thin blanket covering your bottom half. Suddenly the events came back to you.

You sat up, gasping for air. Where were Sumi and Daisuke?

“You might want to lay back down,” a familiar voice told you. “Shoko healed you, but the pain might still be there.”

You did as the voice said, laying back at the elevated position you woke up in. You look over and blinked a few times, seeing your boyfriend sitting in a chair next to your bed. He was in his work uniform, including his blindfold. You winced as you felt a pain in your chest; Satoru was right, there still was residual pain.

“I exorcised a Special Grade,” you croaked.

“I know. I’m proud of you.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, giving you a soft smile, showing off his tiny dimples. His smile quickly turned to a frown as he lectured, “However, what you did was risky and crazy.”

“Aren’t you the one who says that jujutsu sorcerers have to be crazy to survive?” you argued.

“Yes, but there’s a difference between crazy and throwing your life away.”

“You saw that?” you asked, much more awake than you were a few seconds ago.

“I hurried as fast as I could with my own mission to come assist you if you needed. I got there right as you pulled that stunt of yours.”

You pulled your hand from his and placed your face in both of your hands, embarrassed that he saw you launch yourself from several meters high, use up all of your cursed energy, then make a hard landing onto the ground.

“How’s the other two?” you asked, refusing to move your face from your hands.

“Alive and doing well. You’re the most beat-up out of everyone.”

You removed your hands, clasping them together in your lap. “Thank goodness…”

“There wasn’t a Sukuna finger either,” Satoru reported to you. “The villagers’ fear of the shrine must have caused it to grow to a Special Grade. Now, come on. Shoko said you could come home once you woke up.” Satoru stood up, then scooped you up from the bed. You screamed in protest, now wide awake.

“Wha--Put me down!”

“No can do, honey. Doctor’s orders. Nothing strenuous for the next week.”

“Satoru, I don’t think walking counts as strenuous!”

He smiled his signature shit-eating grin, then gave you a kiss on your forehead. No fair, he knew forehead kisses were your weakness. You melted into his arms at how tender his kiss was, now docile and less likely to argue with him.

In a flash, he teleported the two of you to his apartment, setting you on the bed in front of him. After placing you on the bed, he yanked off his blindfold and began rummaging through his dresser, looking for a set of his clothes for you to wear. He tossed the shirt and pants toward you, not even bothering to turn around while you changed. You’d been together for so long (or at least, it felt like a long time) that there wasn’t anything particularly embarrassing about changing in front of each other.

You winced while lifting your hands up to take off your shirt, so Satoru was by your side in an instant, helping you take off your shift without much pain. He even helped you out of your bra and put on his shirt.

“You don’t need me to help you with the pants, do you?” he teased.

“I think I can handle it on my own,” you replied, standing up and shuffling out of your pants. Satoru’s pants were much too long for you, so you had to roll not only the waistband but also the cuffs so that they didn’t constantly drag on the ground. Not like you minded doing that; there was just something about his clothes that was infinitely more comforting than your own, and he knew that more than anyone else.

As you adjusted the pants, Satoru left the bedroom to head toward the kitchen, no doubt to start cooking some of your favorite foods. You laid down on your shared bed, happy to be home. It was a long day (Days? How long were you even unconscious?) and you were glad to have such a caring boyfriend, even if he was being a little annoying about this.

About an hour later, Satoru came into the bedroom with a tray of food. He wouldn’t let you even touch the chopsticks, insisting on feeding you food because he didn’t want you to “strain yourself.” You thought he was just being a little too overprotective, but you allowed him to feed you anyway. The look of satisfaction on his face was just too cute for you to deny him this tiny pleasure.

After dinner, you immediately wanted to go to bed. Satoru quickly ate his portion of dinner then changed out of his work clothes into something much more comfortable to sleep in. He joined you under the covers, using his cursed energy to turn off the lights. You felt his arms gently snake their way around your waist, pressing you into his front. You sighed in contentment; he was warm, but not too warm.

After a few seconds of silence, you piped up, “Satoru?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for taking care of me. I love you.”

He placed a gentle kiss on your neck, just behind your ear. “Anything for you, my love,” he breathed onto your neck. You could feel him smiling gently. “Maybe we should just get married.”

You grumbled something, not even quite sure what you said or even what he said completely. Before sleep overtook you, you mumbled out one last final “I love you,” incredibly happy to be in your boyfriend’s arms at the moment.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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nevertheless-moving · 4 years ago

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Suicidal Misunderstanding XXIII

Part I - - - - - - - - - Part XX - - - - Part XXI - - - - Part XXII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

The office was quiet but for the occasional shuffling of flimsi and tapping of datapads.

Bail Organa and Mon Mothma pointedly did not exchange a glance behind Padme’s back.

Senator Mothma set down her pad and broke the silence. “Padme...are you alright?” she asked softly.

“I’m fine Mon, let’s just go over the bill,” Padme responded stiffly.

Mothma hesitated. “That’s not the only reason I asked you here, Padme.”

Padme stood, chair scraping gratingly. “I see; I’ve already had the Chancellor pry me today in an attempt to exploit my ‘connections’ to the Jedi—as though they’re droids and not flesh-and-blood people who any average person could strike a friendship with—but I had thought better of you two; I suppose my faith was—”

“That’s not what I meant—” Mon pleaded.

“We’re concerned about you,” Bail insisted gently. “You don’t have to tell us anything about the Jedi that you don’t feel comfortable doing so.”

Padme paused, then reluctantly sat back down.

“My apologies,” she muttured. “It’s been...a long day. I’ve been asked by the Chancellor for help in breaking some news that...I’d rather not.”

The senators waited patiently for Padme to collect her thoughts. She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “General Kenobi has suffered from...force...I really don’t think there’s a way of saying this that doesn’t sound bad.”

“I had heard rumors that he was missing at meetings the last few days...has something serious happened?” Bail asked, concerned.

Padme shuddered. “This office is...”

“It’s clean,” Mothma confirmed quietly. “I have it checked independently anytime I’m gone for more then 15 minutes, with random deep-scans.”

“Would you mind...”

Mon nodded and the three waited in silence until the Chandurllian senator’s pad trilled the all-clear.

“Master Kenobi tried to kill himself earlier this week,” Padme confessed lowly. Mon straightened up in a sudden locking of knees and elbows, face drawn into tight lines. Bail’s hands flew to his mouth, tears forming.

“Knight Skywalker got to him in time, and he was in a coma until this morning when he apparently ‘ranted about ending the one’s responsible for the war’ and then vanished, along with Anakin.”

Mon grew very pale and Bail moved both hands from his mouth to his eyes.

“Fuck,” he said softly. “Just...fuck.”

Padme nodded in agreement and Mon inhaled deeply.

Bail rubbed way tears and straightened up resolutely. “How can we help?” he asked Padme. “How does the Chancellor want to handle releasing the news?”

She smiled weakly. “He’s leaving the exact wording up to me, but wants to make the announcement during the next full Senate gathering.”

“What!” Mon half-shouted, shocked. “There’ll be a riot! Surely a bulletin—even a press conference would be better for encouraging a moderate reaction—people will be shouting before he’s through the first sentence!”

“I know,” Padme agreed with a grimace. “But he wants ‘transparency.’“

“He wants panic,” Bail fumed.

“I’m trying to decide if it would better or worse to include the part about suicide,” Padme said bitterly. “Mental health breakdown and disappearance of the Republic’s highest General doesn’t leave much room for confidence or privacy.��

Mon clutched Padme’s hand in support. “I’ll have a PR team on standby. We can prepare resources for anyone who has questions, avoid conspiracy theories from spinning out. I already had a project on the backburner to put together own set of holoclips of the Jedi working towards peace—a counter to the ‘warmongering’ narrative, so to speak. It should be easy enough to adapt.”

“The Chancellor’s going to turn this into another military spending bill,” Bail predicted grimly. “We’ll make sure there’s a proviso in there to provide actual support for the Jedi in the field; I’ll make sure to get a legal team on viper in the grass duty as soon as the responses start coming out.”

“Thank you,” Padme said, gripping Mon’s hand over-tightly in return. She turned to the Alderannian senator. “I’m sorry Bail, I know you two are close.”

Bail exhaled slowly. “This war...I’ve seen Obi-Wan survive so much, and everytime he pulls off the impossible...”

“He’s rewarded with another burden on his shoulders,” Padme finished sympathetically. “Yes, I’ve been watching the same thing happen to Anakin. It’s—if the separatist movement hadn’t resolved into such a democratic and humanitarian nightmare—”

“You should go home and get some rest, Padme,” Mon urged. “It’s late, and the we’re all going to need to be sharp tomorrow. Who knows, maybe some new information will materialize before the afternoon.”

“Why Mon, that’s almost optimistic of you,” Bail remarked dryly.

Mon flashed him a wry grin, looking at Padme out of the corner of her eye. “Well. She did say Anakin with AWOL—”

“Oh do be quiet,” Padme huffed.

Despite the ever growing desire for sleep, it was another long hour before the Senator from Naboo departed. The pair were just turning to their seats after escorting Padme out when Bail let out a startled yelp; Mon instinctively kicked at the sudden small green blur.

Fortunately, when you’re green and the height of most humanoid’s knees, you become quite experienced at avoiding such reflexive

“Master Yoda! What are you doing here? How did you even get in?” Senator Mothma staggered backwards, reverting to defensiveness to cover up her embarrassment at attempting to punt the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order.

“Has his ways, a Jedi does,” Yoda replied mysteriously. Mon Mothma nodded seriously as Bail restrained himself from rolling his eyes. He had spent far too much time around Obi-Wan for deliberate Jedi vagueness to hold much weight.

“Can I—May I offer you a seat?” Mon asked, quickly recovering her diplomatic grace. “I’m afraid that you’ve just missed Senator Amidala, but I’m sure she would be eager to return; I understand she’s...concerned for Master Kenobi.”

The wizened Master shook his head, ears flopping as he hopped onto Padme’s recently vacated chair, standing on the cusioned seat as the two senators’ settled down. The sight should, perhaps, have been comical. But the weight of his gaze...Bail held his breath. Perhaps Jedi mystique did still have some affect on him.

“Come to speak with the two of you, I did. Missed Mistress Amidala, I have, I know. Deliberate, this was.”

Mon and Bail frowned, exchanging a slow look of pointed disapproval. Bail spoke hesitantly but with touch of reproach. “I’m certain she would prefer to be here, regardless of the news—Padme has suffered for her public defense of the Jedi, I should hope that that friendship is returned, especially in hard times”

Yoda’s ears drooped. “A great Jedi, she would have made, in another life. Vibrant, she is in the Force. Loud to a Jedi, regardless of sensitivity. But needed now, quiet is.”

Yoda’s gaze pierced Bail and he warmed inexplicably. “Quiet the two of you are. Brilliant, wide but in the Force...” Yoda broke the gaze, growing contemplative.

“Unique in the force, each soul is. That can be read, rare is the mind. More difficult to discern, currents, intentions, manner, it is with some, it is with you. And now, Quiet we need.”

The two settled back, uneasily flattered. “Master Yoda—it’s an honor of course, to be considered an individual worthy of confidence, but why exactly do you have need of quiet minds? Of us?” Senator Mothma asked finally.

The diminutive Master sagged. “By actions you would do, trust you have earned. But always in motion, the future is. A heavy burden, to carry, I must ask you. Without cause, I would not ask. But once tell you this I do—”

To the politicians shock Master Yoda’s simmed to glisten with unshed tears. “—Guarantee your safety I cannot.”

The air hung warm and heavy for a timeless moment and a chill ran up both their spines. But neither were individuals particularly given to indesicion in the face of looming danger.

“How can we help?” Mon asked, the words echoing over far more than an hour.

“We know something is wrong with Obi-Wan,” Bail added softly. “Whatever we can do to right it—Obi-Wan is a friend, the Jedi are our allies, and the Republic is our duty.”

Mon nodded firmly.

Yoda stared at them each in turn, eyes searching and ancient.

“Working with the Separatists, the Chancellor is,” he said bluntly. “Evidence of this, we have, but not proof. Controlling, the Separatists, the Chancellor is. Evidence of this we have also, but not proof. The truth it is.”

“Evidence?” Bail parroted hoarsely, mentally assembling his own grim circumstantial coronation even as his understanding of the conversation’s direction fell apart.

The Jedi Master drew two small glittering objects from his pocket—a datachip and a microslide.

“In the brain of a trooper, this we found.” he said gravely. “In the brain of all clones, this lies. Orders, it contains. Evil, is it. Free will, it can control. Decode it we have. To the Chancellor, tied these orders are.”

“Force,” Mon murmured in horror, responding automatically. “He already controls the public, and the courts—”

“And over half the senate,” Bail added bitterly.

“A Sith, he is,” Yoda continued with a sigh. “A Sith he has always been. A return to an Empire, he aims.”

There was a long heady pause as the two grappled with the return of the ancient boogeyman of the Republic and the repeated derailing of their night’s direction.

“Fuck,” Senator Mothma said delicately, thinking wistfully of two hours ago when she had planned on confronting Padme yet again on her relationship with a young Jedi.

“Said the same, did we.”

The Alderannian Senator rubbed his temples, trying to come to terms with consecutive massive shocks from the already unexpected conversation. “Is Obi-Wan alright?” he asked eventually.

The small Elder hummed thoughtfully in reply. Bail tensed.

“No and yes. Suffer much, he has. Broken he is, but not shattered. A plan he has. His idea to include you, it is. The bravest man in the galaxy, he called you.” Yoda said, offering Senator Organa a sad smile.

Bail leaned back, stunned. “Me? But—why me?” he asked bewildered.

“Know not, I do,” the Jedi said with a shrug. “Seen the future, he has. A future where saved his life, you did. Saved my life. Saved something too precious to name, you did. Matters little, it does. A future that must not come to pass, it is, even as learn from it. we do.”

“...I think you’re going to have to explain that somewhat,” Mon replied sternly as Bail’s head spun.

Yoda nodded and the three settled in for a sleepless night of planning treason.

Part XXIV

#star wars #my au #star wars au no 27 #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au

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kravkalackin · 4 years ago

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To say they were still figuring this out was an understatement if there ever was one. They’d been in this new world for a little over six months now, by their last count. There was still no sign of their planet, their universe, the whole damn planar system they left behind, and no sign if they would ever be able to leave this one.

Maybe they wouldn’t. Maybe they would be stuck here in this strange animal filled world for the rest of their lives. At least the animals were sapient, but there was still something surreal about possibly never seeing another humanoid face again, other than his six coworkers.

It would also be an understatement to say it sometimes kept him up at night. Which was why Barry was currently moving as quietly as he could through the ship to the kitchen. Davenport and Merle were still out on a mission to find the light, but everyone else should be asleep.

The key word there was ‘should.’

“Oh,” he said, surprised when he saw the form of one of the twins from behind. It was hard to tell in the dark, especially with the way they were backlit from the fridge. “Couldn’t sleep either?” he asked, and when they turned to look at him he could see now that it was Taako.

Instead of answering, he wordlessly pointed towards one of his ears, which twitched before turning back towards the fridge, and Barry could feel himself dying inside.

“Right. Elf, sorry,” he said, debating just heading back to his room before he embarrassed himself further. He really hadn’t spent a lot of time with either of the twins on their own, and most of the time they did spend together was in study. Learning this new animal language, trying to figure out this world they were in. He wasn’t that great at social skills there, but at least he had something to focus on.

“What’cha having my dude?” Taako asked before he could leave, surprising Barry.

“What?” he asked, and it was almost impossible to tell what Taako was thinking.

“Food Barold, were you coming here to eat something or just real in the mood for some awkward small talk,” he clarified.

“Oh, I was just gonna grab some mac n’ cheese or something,” he said, and almost as soon as he said that Taako started moving, pulling out the ingredients to make some homemade mac, instead of the instant stuff Barry was planning on. “Oh you don’t- I can do it bud,” he said, but Taako waved him away.

“I couldn’t decide anyway. I’ll just make double,” he said, and reluctantly Barry nodded, going and sitting down at the table to wait.

“It’s uh, it’s weird, isn’t it?” he said after a few minutes, the quiet getting a little too much for him.

“Which part?” Taako asked, and Barry scoffed a little at that.

“All of it? It’s just- I’d been prepared for a disaster, but nothing like this,” he said, and all Taako did was nod. At the moment he just seemed to be watching water boil, which in Barry’s experience only made it go all that much slower. “Do you think... you think we’ll ever be able to go home?” he asked, his voice quiet.

“Dunno,” Taako said easily, a careless shrug on his shoulders. “Having only animals around forever is kinda a weird turn, but never much had a home to begin with, so if we’re stuck here so be it, I guess,” he said.

“Right, I uh, remember hearing your guy’s story, in the promotional stuff,” Barry said, hoping he wasn’t crossing some line. It didn’t seem to bother Taako though, who started working on some sort of cheese sauce for the mac now that the noodles had been added. It had been pretty heavily advertised though, the twin elves who’d brought themselves up from nothing. A regular rags to riches story, with the skills to actually back it up.

“And what’s your story?” Taako asked, surprising Barry. “From everything I remember you were sitting pretty easy in the IPRE, never did any sort of field work like this before. Why not stick back on this one too?” he asked, and it wasn’t the first time Barry had been asked that, but it was the first time he felt the desire to answer honestly.

“Midlife crisis,” he said, Taako pausing and turning towards him slowly in response. “I realized I’m almost forty and it just felt like I’d... wasted so much time? Then the light came down and I told myself wherever this thing takes us, I was gonna follow it, so uh, here I am,” he said.

Taako was quiet for a long moment, and Barry was worried that he might have said something wrong when he suddenly started laughing. Barry could feel his face heat up in embarrassment, but when the elf pulled himself together it actually didn’t seem mocking.

“Ya know what, I can respect that,” he said, and Barry actually found himself grinning as Taako came over, putting a bowl of the best looking mac n’ cheese Barry had ever seen in his life down in front of him, before sitting down as well with his own. Barry didn’t waste any time, immediately shoveling some in his mouth. To say they got lucky with the twin’s cooking couldn’t begin to cover it.

“Gods, this is gonna fuck me up tonight, but it’s worth it,” he said, not noticing how Taako froze at that.

“What do you mean?” he asked, and Barry was confused for a moment before remembering only Merle had access to their medical records.

“Oh, I’m lactose intolerant,” he said.

“Barold!” Taako screeched, and immediately Barry was wincing.

“Shush! You’ll wake everyone else up!” he hissed back, having to quickly grab his bowl when the elf started reaching for it.

“Give me that back! I’m not letting you midlife crisis all over my cooking!” he yelled, and Barry had to get up out of his seat now, shoving food in his mouth as fast as he could before Taako could take it away.

“The damage is already done! I’m finishing it!” he shouted, running away from Taako now. There was a loud clatter as Taako’s chair fell back, and Barry was pretty sure he could hear others starting to wake up from the noise further into the ship.

There was still so much they had to figure out, so many uncertainties, but hopefully slowly they could start piecing it together.

And as far as people to be stuck with for all of this, Barry was starting to feel like he got pretty lucky.

There were definitely worse ways to have a midlife crisis, at any rate.

#taz #the adventure zone #barry bluejeans #taako #long post #i just enjoy their unlikely wholesome friendship #haven't gotten to write it in a while #so here are the boys

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 years ago

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Happy Birthday, Miss Raven! (SSR Birthday Suit Up Personal Stories)

Artwork is by @shimmeryspark~

PART 1

Happy birthday, Miss Raven!

“Ah. You said it.”

Is something the matter?

“No, no... It is just... Well. You could say that I am still feeling a bit dazed.”

Why is that?

“It is not every day that I have such a large gathering in my honor. All this attention is... Hmm, how to say it? It is a bit... embarrassing.”

Are you not used to celebrating your birthday? Or is it the large crowd that you’re not used to?

“I am not accustomed to either. Many wild animals do not understand the concept of a ‘birthday’—it is a purely humanoid custom.”

“There were also not many people I knew of prior to coming to Night Raven College. There were the occasional travelers, yes, but I mainly observed from a distance. I was with mother, father, and Father for brief periods of time, and that was all I knew for quite a while.”

You said father twice. Why is that?

“My first father is my biological one. He and mother brought me into the world. However, I only knew them for about six weeks. It is around that time that fledglings leave the nest and strike out on their own. I do not know what became of them after that. Even now, my memories of them are a bit fuzzy. I am not particularly close with my biological parents.”

“I met my second Father when I was on my own. It was he who granted me the form which you see today. He took pity on a poor raven, who longed to be something more. I have very fond memories of him... but he has since departed from this world, leaving me to carry on his legacy.”

Legacy?

“Yes. My late Father was a storyteller. He taught me human language—both verbal and written, and how to weave tales with only words. You can say I take after him.”

“I came to Night Raven College upon the advice of my late Father. He said it would be a good place for me to spread my work. It seems he knew Uncle somehow, as Father directed me to a Dire Crowley. And... well. As I’m sure you’re well aware, my current guardian is the headmaster.”

What is he like as a parent?

“Truthfully, he tries his best, but... there is plenty of room for improvement. Uncle is a busy man, so I do not fault him for not being home infrequently. However... he is quite forgetful, which often means some of his work and the household chores fall to me.”

“He eats a lot, and can be messy, and he hoards shiny items in strange nooks and crannies... but despite his tendency to be a scatterbrained, you can tell he cares a lot for NRC and his students and staff. Uncle is very kind hearted when it comes down to it.”

“... It is strange. Though it can be a bit troublesome at times, I... quite like living with Uncle. I consider him, and Night Raven College, to be my home--my nest, if you will.”

“... Some days, I miss Father terribly. I owe my current form, my writing ability, and my life at NRC to him. The happiness I am able to experience now... I wish he was here, so I could share this joy with him.”

PART 2

Was the transition from bird to a human-like body difficult for you?

“Very. This form is very different than that of a raven. There were many things I had to learn. I believe I have already mentioned before that it was rather difficult to grasp language, as well as culture... gross and fine motor skill...”

“But perhaps the most difficult thing to get used to was the tastes and textures of foods enjoyed by mankind. Ravens have beaks, and humans do not. Humans have teeth, and ravens do not—and what’s more, human digestive systems and bellies are much larger and more extensive. The change was jarring, to say the least.”

“I could not hold my meals down in the beginning. For a long time, I ate only soft, easy to swallow and bland foods. Father would prepare a rice porridge for me most days, and he would slowly introduce other foods as toppings for that porridge, such as eggs and bacon.”

Sounds tough.

“It was. But I am fine now, so there is no need to concern yourself.”

Okay, then slight change of topic. Do you have something you especially like to eat or drink?

“I am fond of bread and rice dishes. I recently discovered ‘milk bread’. It is very fluffy, with a mild flavor that’s not too sweet, and it pairs well with a variety of jams, jellies, and other spreads. Another plus is that is is easy to nibble on while writing, or if I’m rushing late to class.”

“To drink... I enjoy tea. I take mine with a splash of milk and one sugar cube. Milk tea goes well with the milk bread for a snack. I also quite like the taste of Flounder’s Blue--that’s a tropical drink they serve at the Mostro Lounge.”

Is there anything you don’t like to eat?

“Now that my palate has been expanded, I can say with certainty... I’m not a fan of the foods I used to make do with as a raven. Birdseed is tough to get down, and disgusting... And carrion is literal rot. It’s a wonder how I could stomach it.. though I supposed I didn’t have much of a choice back then.”

Besides eating human foods, what else do you enjoy about your new form?

“I appreciate my new range of motion. It allows me to engage in activities that I normally could not in my original form. There’s writing, of course, but I’ve also picked up a number of other hobbies, like drawing--thought I am not very skilled at it.”

“Do you see those small houseplants by my windowsill? I’m also raising some herbs and flowers of my own. Sometimes I use them for cooking, and other times I use them for my other hobby, brewing inks.”

Oh, that’s right. You make your own ink.

“Hehe. You’re correct--and it’s something I take much pride in. My ink is enchanted. I imbue them with magical properties to achieve various effects, such as giving off fine everlasting shine to a gold color, or emitting a smell that evokes happy memories.”

“I must have made hundreds of unique colors by now—and I keep experimenting and expanding, or improving on old formulas. There’s already a lot of trial and error I go through before I approve a prototype ink... but I keep trying until I’m satisfied with it!”

That’s a lot of work. Where do you get your inspiration for so many effects and colors from?

“From lots of places! From people, objects, experiences... The world is big, so I can’t attribute all my ideas to just one thing.”

“I’m thankful that Twisted Wonderland is full of curious things for me to ponder and be inspired by.”

PART 3

Are you writing again? During your own party?

“Ah, yes. I am. Forgive me... I like to document my experiences, you see. I can be a little forgetful at times, so it helps to have a written record of things.”

“Hehe. I’ll be able to look back fondly on these memories in the future.

Is nonfiction your favorite genre?

“Not at all. Nonfiction is limited only to what reality allows. I prefer reading and writing more fantastical stories, but I enjoy most genres... save for maybe romance.”

... Romance?

“S-See! I... I knew I would get a strange look if I shared it! Ohhh, I shouldn’t have said anything at all!”

No, there’s nothing wrong with it. I’m just confused because I thought you wrote a lot of romantic stories.

“There are many people who are skilled at things they do not like. In my case... it is not so much that I dislike romantic stories, but more that I find it difficult to relate to them. Romance often depicts strong feelings of attachment, and unfortunately, that is something that I struggle to convey myself.”

“Romance always feels like something that is beyond my full comprehension. Something dangled in the distance, far out of my reach. The happy ending I desire for myself... it’s simply unattainable.”

Why is that?

“I am not ‘of this world’. The role I play is just that: a role, and a minor one at that. I can’t... fully integrate, you see. My job is to support others. The spotlight is reserved for the major actors--it’s something I can never have for myself, no matter how much I dream of it.”

It’s your birthday. You can wish for whatever you can dream of, so do you mind sharing what that is with us?

“That is a nice thought, but... Do you promise not to laugh? Yes? Good.”

“Well then, let’s see... My dream...”

“Put simply, I dream of the sky. Not in the sense of flying, but... in the sense of having total agency and freedom to do and say as I please. I’d like to be able to experience all that life has to offer, without being held back or restricted by my own... condition.”

“And... I would like to know the taste of romance. To love and to be loved in return, to depend on someone and to be depended on, to support them and to be supported... Equal parts give and take. That kind of a love.”

“In my mind’s eye, far, far down the line in my future... I see a cozy little cottage. Two floors, with an attic. It is there, in the topmost floor, where I toil at my work. From my little nest, I spin stories that wow the world.”

“There are two children--the eldest, a son, and the younger, a daughter. They help tend to the chores and love their parents dearly. When night falls, their father returns from a long day at his own job. ‘Welcome home’, I’ll greet him, and he’ll smile tenderly as he embraces his family.”

What sort of person is he? This ideal partner of yours.

“Wh-What?! D-Don’t ask me that...! H-How should I know?! I-It’s not like I spend all of my free time daydreaming about this kind of thing...!!”

“................................................ He’s handsome, of course, but he’s also... kind. He’s kind, but he’s mean at times, too. He’s a big bully, and he teases you relentlessly. He’s the guarded sort, that wears a smile on his face while hiding his true intentions. But... there’s good in him, despite all of that.”

“He’d be competent in all kinds of housework--especially cooking!--and he’s so charming and witty with his words that it’s infuriating. He’s always there to support you in your time of need, and reminding you to take better care of yourself, and...”

“... Goodness me. I apologize for rambling. Sometimes my imagination gets the better of me.”

Aw, don’t be sorry. That was cute. I hope you’re able to find your happy ending with that special someone.

“... I can dream.”

Thank you so much for telling us about yourself, birthday girl.

“It is no trouble at all. Thank you for thinking of me.”

... Miss Raven. I have one last thing to say before we wrap this up.

“Yes?”

‘Welcome back.’

“... Thank you. I’m... I’m happy to be back!”

[Groovy artwork will be unlocked on July 27th!]

#twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #Raven Crowley #Raven birthday takeover

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ephemereos · 3 years ago

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Indulging further into the hyperfixation with another kawoshin au.

Farmer Shinji x Alien Kaworu

Accidentally set it in america dhjbfjke both of them are between 18 and 20, didn't really think of a precise age.

As for warnings, mentions of torture in regards to Kaworu's past, but nothing too graphic, I'm not going into detail.

In this au I came up with absolutely for like pure self indulgence, Kaworu is an alien who ran to Earth to take shelter from an invasion happening on his planet. They are humanoid aliens, with extremely high empathy and abilities to understand other living beings' emotions perfectly. They are a pacifist race, reason why they were so easily invaded, as their defenses were low. Kaworu's safety spaceship crashes on earth, getting the attention of the authorities and he's immediately brought into a government research lab. Kaji works as a guard there and can't stand the thought of a living, breathing being getting tortured and experimented on. Especially when it looks so much like a human. The research facility had never done experiments on living beings, they mostly focused on rocks, plants, other matter that seemed to come from outer space and that needed analysis.

Kaji decides to break Kaworu free, creating a foolproof plan beforehand, taking multiple weeks. He has the sympathy of other guards and workers from the facily, who too empathise with the alien, deeply upset at how he’s being treated. Kaji’s able to break Kaworu free, getting him into his car and then speeding away to the safety of his small house in a rural town in the middle of the countryside.

The first thing he does it patch Kaworu up: bandage his cuts from the vivisection, cover hos bruies from the blood withdrawals with cream. He becomes Kaworu’s surrogate father, constantly making sure to tend to his wounds while he’s recovering, the boy spending a few days of total moping around between Kaji’s guest bed and the couch because he is just so exhausted and in pain from the experiments. When Kaji is working he alternates naps to watching tv, curious about human entertainment. He loves animal documentaries or historical ones. Once a few days have passed and he seems to be doing better, as well as Kaji being sure no one is onto him, the man decides to take him for a small ride to his trusted farm where he gets fresh produce, wanting Kaworu to get some fresh air and having promised he’d let him see cows in real life.

Shinji finished Highschool and, unlike his parents had thought, he has no desire to go to university. The school years have exhausted him to the point that the thought of more studying makes him sick. So over the summer, while his parents travel around the country for their job as researchers, he started working at his aunt Misato’s farm, taking quite a liking to it. He likes staying with the animals, tending to the plants. It’s tiring, but he enjoys it and makes him feel alive. Kaji is a regular and always welcome at the farm.

Kaji prked his car near the cows before going to Misato to ask for what he needed. Shinji is the one who had to bring the produce to his car while Kaji and Misato chat. What Shinji didn’t expect to see was an albino boy looking at the cows with the eye sparkles a little kid would have. The boy is quite cheerful and friendly; he asks for Shinji’s name as well as the cows’. What unsettles Shinji the most is seeing all his bruises and bandages: around his hands, his arms, his neck even. When Kaji comes around he pats Kaworu on th3 shoulder, saying it’s his nephew visiting him. Shinji immediately thinks abuse is going on. He doesn’t want to make a scene, nor is he sure of his suspicions, so he keeps quiet and watches the two go away.

The following day Shinji decides to take his bike and go to Kaji's place, using excuse that he forgot a bag of apples and needs to deliver it to him to get the address out of Misato. He bikes to his house, walking quietly around it to peer inside and see if the albino boy is there.

"I didn't expect to see you around the house."

Shinji almost shits himself. The boy is behind him, calm as he can be, smiling at the brunette. Kaworu invites Shinji inside and an awkward conversation starts, Shinji worried sick and trying to understand if Kaji is the one at fault for Kaworu's wounds. Kaworu quickly picks up where Shinji is going and reassures him that no, it wasn't Kaji and he would never do anything like that to him. Shinji is relieved, but not completely, still anxious to understand who might have hurt the other boy that bad. Kaworu takes a while, his high empathy analyzing Shinji and his behaviours in an attempt to understand if he's completely safe as he seems or not. Eventually, Kaworu decides to tell him the truth, making Shinji promise to not tell anyone else.

Shinji ends up hanging out with Kaworu all day, now curious to understand the other, until Kaji comes home and chaos ensues. He’s mad at Kaworu for exposing them and possibly putting them at risk, but when Kaworu tells him his reasons and that he thought that maybe, having allies in the city would help them, Kaji calms down and realizes that having a bit of support might not hurt. He talks to Misato, explains the situation and she’s surprisingly very calm about it. She tells Kaji that, if he’s worried, he could leave Kaworu with them during the day as he works. The farm is in the countryside, it’s quite isolated and Kaworu would be safe there.

Until Kaworu’s wounds are fully healed, Misato only asks him to keep an eye on the cattle or feed the chickens, trying to keep his labour to a minimum to avoid opening up his wounds again. After that he helps shinji in the fields and doing other things that might be more tiring. The two grow a lot closer, goofing around on their spare time, Shinji sometimes taking Kaworu to arcades in the evening, having him wear a big goodie with the hood pulled up so that he won’t be easily spotted as an outsider.

Their peace is soon broken as Kaji starts suspecting that the facility might be onto them and he tries to find a solution. He can’t run away with Kaworu, he would immediately become suspicious and be tracked down. So Shinji offers to take Kaworu away. He has money put aside for what was supposed to be his university fund. He has a van his parents got him instead of a car because he wanted to be able to drive but also help Misato with deliveries and such. He and Kaworu quickly pack their things, leaving instructions to Misato as to what to say to his parents in case they call her and ask about him, instead of calling him directly, and then they run off, stopping in a city farther from their own to buy supplies to modify the van, turning it into a livable space.

They keep travelling, only stopping for very short periods of time and picking up short jobs like dog sittinng and lawn mowing to avoid spending all of the money saved (it’s quite a bit but they have no idea how long they’ll be on the run and want to avoid tricky situations). Kaworu gets to see the world, the beauty of nature and many different people and Shinji gets out of his comfort zone too.

They grow closer with each day, especially considering there is only one bed. But they soon don’t mind at all and all embarrassment is gone. Sometimes Shinji stays up longer, and stares at Kaworu’s scars, feeling a pit in hos stomach at the thought of what could have happened if Kaji hadn’t intervened. Kaworu, being a creature based on empathy, can feel Shinji’s emotions crystal clear even in his sleep and wraps his arms around Shinji in an attempt to soothe him. It works every time, with Shinji curling in closer to Kaworu and calming down, eventually falling asleep to the other’s heartbeat.

#kawoshin #kaworu x shinji #kawoshin fanfic #kawoshin drabble #nge #evangelion #neon genesis evangelion #kaworu nagisa #kaworu #shinji ikari #shinji #it took me a few days to type this out #fanfic #drabble #scene speaking

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deltas-writing-corner · 3 years ago

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Courtship (4): The Gargoyle Graveyard

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland (Malleus x GN!reader)

Author note: Again, thank you all for being patient with me and I apologize for having a very inconsistent writing schedule. I'm going to make it my goal to update on a bi weekly basis instead of leaving you all in silent limbo. Also a reminder I suck at figuring out which warnings to put so if there's something that needs to be forewarned that I failed to disclose please lmk!

Warnings: Mentions of heavy bodily injuries | childhood trauma/neglect | discussions/mentions of discrimination | mentions of virginity/sexual history

Previous chapter | Next Chapter

AO3 version

Clay. Stone. Porcelain. Plaster. Metal. There are even gargoyles carved entirely of wood! Some statues are stand-alone works of art while others are part of a clear collection or series of similar inspiration. They even come in all sorts of shapes and sizes; as small as an apple or a towering height to rival Malleus himself. No matter what, each grotesque has been crafted with the utmost consideration, by well seasoned and knowing hands. Even the ones that have clear defects and cannot serve their intended purpose are free of overabundant ivy, weeds, or dust. There’s a clear degree of love and care the family who makes these statues has for their craft that makes him feel less alone in his interest in an uncherished form of art.

“It should be around here somewhere,” you muse aloud. Ever since he expressed interest in seeing more sculptures made with non-traditional materials, you’ve been keeping your eye out for a particular one that would fulfill his yearning. You eventually find it and eagerly point to it. “There it is!”

Malleus watches as you approach a massive-sized statue covered with a thick and half-wet tarp. He helps you remove the cover, revealing a winged and slightly humanoid canine. There are many more grotesques with a similar design, but what makes this one stand out the most is the material it’s made out of.

“Amazing!” Malleus awes. “I’ve never seen a grotesque of this size made entirely of glass! They’ve even managed to maintain their attention to detail despite such an abnormal material choice.”

“You can even see the inner channel where the water would flow in and redirect out of its mouth,” you notice.

“They even went out of their way to make it functional despite it being unfit for actual installation?” Malleus inquires with disbelief. “Such a shame.”

“If you’re looking to buy anything here, I’m afraid it's a lost cause. One of the first warnings the grandfather gave me is that none of these are for sale.”

“What was his second warning?”

“If we damage anything, even as small as a scratch, he’ll kill us.”

“How charming,” he chuckles. “I cannot blame him. These statues must take weeks to complete. Time is a human’s greatest enemy.”

“For some, sure. But when I went to visit the family and talked to the old man, he was lunging around all this heavy equipment like he was still in his prime,” you recall. “He lives for his craft. If there’s anything humans are at risk of their entire lives, it’s a lack of motivation and reason to live.”

“I suppose that’s true, but the lifespan of humans and the inevitable effects of aging is difficult to live with, especially once it begins to hinder one’s ability to do what one could previously do without issue. ”

“You’re not wrong,” you acknowledge. “But I think I’d rather live a short life with fulfillment than a dull, long-as-shit life.”

To show that he’s entirely on your side, Gunter lets out a guttural bark while his tail rapidly wags and thumps the damp ground, coating the ends of his bushy tail in specs of dirt and dirtied, remnant snow of the north that has managed to stay frozen on the isles warmer south end.

“You’re only agreeing with them because you’ve been promised food,” Malleus chastises. “Don’t think I didn’t pick up on your grumbling stomach.”

“And don't think I didn't pick up on your stomach rumbling either your highness," you quip back at him. "The family has a small cottage nearby we can use. We'll settle down for a bit and eat before sightseeing some more."

Before you turn and walk in the direction towards the aforementioned lodgings, you reach your hand out for Malleus to take and he latches onto you with restrained enthusiasm. He's taller than you, but he takes care not to take his normal strides as to not leave you struggling to keep up with him. Gunter doesn't know the way, so he trots beside you every step of the way up until the destination is in plain view. The cottage is small but well-attended. There’s a rustic flair to its construction that makes it feel familiar and safe despite never stepping foot in it before.

"Those gargoyles were something, huh?" you remark to him while you tap and shake off the gunk wedged into the soles of your heavy boots against the frame of the door.

"Indeed," he nods, taking your cloak off for you and hanging it on the wooden rack nearby. "I don't think I've ever seen that many gargoyles in one day. Just when my eyes land upon an intriguing one, there's several more that catch my attention."

The way he gets all wide-eyed is outright adorable. It makes you grin just as enthusiastically too. "I bet your club is going to have a field day once you tell them about this!"

His child-like smile turns into one of disappointment. "I'm certain they would, if I wasn't the sole member that is."

Your hands halt from pulling out and setting down all the premade food out of your pack. "Seriously? You're the only one?"

When he nods his head, you feel a twinge of hurt in your heart. Poor guy. You can only imagine how disappointing it must be to go through all those lengths to start a club (you would know since you're technically a staff member of the school and have been given a rundown on some of the school's functions and regulations) only for no one to show interest. Of course, you completely understand that gargoyles aren't exactly all the rage within the minds of teenage boys. Still! He goes through so much effort to build relationships with his peers but they always cower away, either due to his status or even because of the way he looks. You won’t deny that he does come off as rather intimidating at first glance, but he's a sweet guy once you give him the chance to speak.

But to expect teenagers going through social pressures and demanding academics to be as understanding and willing to understand someone like Malleus is an impossible demand. Given that everyone in the school can be a bunch of self-centered and easily agitated bunch of pricks, it's understandable that most of the student body isn't keen on trying to take into consideration the proper etiquette one needs to consider in the presence of a young and noble fae. Deuce has met and talked briefly with Malleus on one occasion, but even he visibly shakes whenever his name is mentioned, even in casual passing.

Wait until they found out who you've gone and gotten buddy-buddy with behind their back. They probably think they're slick or that their intentions are well swept under the rug, but it's clear they feel some semblance of responsibility for your well-being, as both a magicless individual as well as a close, albeit older, friend. You dread the day people begin to make the connections between Malleus and you, but you still can’t help but wonder what their reactions might be. You also dread the high probability those two idiots are going to find out and embarrass the living hell out of you, which you know you do not have the patience or tolerance for.

Gunter jumps up and sits himself down in one of the wooden dining chairs, pushing the small ceramic plate towards you with his nose, as if telling you "Alright, I’ve done what I said I'd do, now feed me what I'm owed." You tell him that you'll give him what he's well earned after you get a small fire started in the brick fireplace. Just because it's warmer near the southern half of the island and not as heavily blanketed with snow, doesn't mean the cold has completely vanished, Winter is still winter after all.

"Where did these scars come from?"

Malleus' unexpected question and closeness nearly make you drop the iron rod you've been using to stoke the growing fire. You've since taken off your boots and rolled up the bottoms of your pants just above your knee as the room starts to warm up enough for a thin layer of perspiration to accumulate and roll down your skin. The scars he's referring to are the ones on your right leg, both side by side at an awkward angle and discolored. You have a lot more scars than these, some much more gruesome in appearance than these two. Malleus has never asked about your scars, but sometimes you catch him looking in the general area of some that peak through your clothes. He likely keeps quiet about their existence out of courtesy.

Yet out of all the markings on your body, why did these two stand out enough that he'd finally ask about them?

"It's a long story," you say in an effort to stall the topic. "Sit. I'll feed you two once the fire is stable."

He doesn’t push you for an answer, instead simply doing as you say and lets you poke at the burning logs until they're properly aflame on their own. You made mostly some of your morning favorites; Creamy and thick potato stew with diced carrots and peas and some eggs, ham, and crispy hash browns sandwich between homemade halved croissants. You teased him about having picky taste buds earlier, but Malleus is content to eat anything you serve him so long as it is not comparable to the likes of Lilia's atrocious cooking.

(Seriously, how does a man as old as Lilia not know the basic fundamentals of cooking? And why does everything he makes end up burnt and tasting like something rotten? You will never understand.)

"Don't eat too quickly," you warn Gunter as you pour a bit of light-colored soup onto his designated plate. Your words are ignored, as the equally marred wolf sloppily slurps and munches on the few bits of potatoes and vegetables you generously scraped out of the thermos. His food is gone as quickly as it’s put in front of him and he looks at you expecting more.

"No. The rest is mine," you scold. "And don't beg Malleus for some either! I know you do it behind my back, you little shit!"

He turns to look at Malleus with an accusatory glare, thinking that he ratted him out to you. Malleus’s response towards the silent imputation is to turn and look out the window as if something caught his interest all of a sudden, cup raised to his lips as he politely sips away at his meal without an air of calmness. You have to slap a hand over your mouth to hide the amusement that overtakes your senses.

"Malleus, stop that!"

"Stop what?" he innocently asks.

"Stop making me want to laugh!"

He sets his cup down onto its matching serving dish. "It's not my fault you have an easily satiable sense of humor."

"Wow!" you say incredulously and put your arms up in offense. "And here I was thinking we were friends!"

His distant demeanor breaks and you both devolve into a fit of laughter together. Gunter unfortunately takes advantage of your joint distraction and slips away with a warm sandwich between his jaw, your sandwich in particular.

"That damn wolf!" you curse. "I knew I should have trusted my gut and pack extras.”

Malleus pities your distress before moving over to sit closer. "Worry not. I'll split mine in half with you,” he reassures.

"No, it's fine," you immediately dismiss his offer. "Have it for yourself."

"I'm not taking no for an answer," he firmly states. “Don’t be stubborn. It’s far too early for that.”

"I thought you liked it when I was stubborn?” you pout.

He shakes his head with a smile. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t”

"At least someone likes my attitude,” you say after chewing and swallowing a mouthful of soup. “Sebek certainly doesn’t."

"The boy is stubborn as well. When two equally stubborn individuals cross paths, you will witness nothing but discord between the two."

"Add the fact I'm human into the mix, and we'll be exchanging fists instead of words sooner or later," you scoff. "I get that some faes don't like humans, but what's his deal with acting like he’s got a vendetta against me?"

"Sebek doesn't hate humans for the reasons you might think," Malleus admits. "It’s more like he finds them difficult to think that highly of. Did you know that he is half-human?"

You nearly choke on your own breath over the sudden revelation. "Really?"

"Indeed," Malleus finds amusement at your disbelief. "Have you ever wondered why his ears aren't pointed like Silver, but his eyes are like mine and Lilia’s?"

"Damn,” you scratch the back of your head with embarrassment. “Now I feel stupid.”

"You aren't. Given the way he speaks, not many would assume he had human blood in his veins. His mother was highly regarded within her social circle, but her marriage to a human man tarnished her reputation a great deal. She's happy and does not seem to care what others think of her these days. However, when Sebek set out to be a knight, his mother's marriage and his lineage were often brought up as a way to scrutinize his character and capabilities rather than any of his actual shortcomings as an individual."

"Poor kid," you sigh. "Lilia told me those sorts of things still happen in The Valley, but it sounds so outlandish that I couldn’t take it that seriously."

"Many faes hold old traditions above all else, to a degree that the purity of one's blood stands above all other merits." His eyebrows pressed together in annoyance. "Even my grandmother thinks it's archaic, but as the reigning queen she has to embody a persona of neutrality between the social divide."

"It sounds like you have your work cut out for you in the future," you say, almost apologetically. "What do you plan to do about it once you're the king?"

There's a brief flash of surprise over your question, but Malleus easily answers it as usual. "I think my first course of action as king would be to properly knight Sebek and Silver."

"Bet my rifle that Sebek is going to cry the entire ceremony!" you remark with certainty. "That's all he ever goes on about, being a knight and all."

"He's devoted countless hours and efforts since he was a child. If there's anyone who deserves to join the knighthood, it's him."

"Definitely," you nod to further cement your agreement with him. "He could stand to lower his voice a bit. He'll give you tinnitus before long.”

"At least we won't have to worry about losing him in a crowd," Malleus jests.

"That's to say we'll lose sight of him to begin with," you remark. "He'll gladly lose me in a crowd. You? You'd be lucky to get out of arm's length."

"You underestimate me, dearest," Malleus smirks. "Ever since I've met you, I've perfected the art of avoiding Sebek's insistent searches."

"Have you now?" you razz back. "Don't let him catch onto the fact. He'll have my head."

He reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Each second his skin touches yours makes you tingle. Time slows down ever so briefly if only to savor the small instance of physical connection for as long as possible. "What of your aunts?" he inquires. "Are they as overprotective of you as Sebek is of myself?"

"They’re a trio of mama bears," you proudly admit. "I'm old enough to drink and well equipped to fend for myself, but in their minds, I'll always be the little tyke that couldn't even eat their meals without looking at them for approval. Especially my aunt Gia."

You have three aunts. There's your aunt Marisol, the mother of most of your cousins and the main caretaker of the household. Your second aunt Lucia was well into her studies at university when you came to live with them, but her stress and long hours of mulling over her course materials paid off in the long run. Your gardening skills wouldn't be what they are now without her expertise in agricultural botany.

Then there's your aunt Gia. Oldest of the three. An absolute tank of a woman. No spouse. No kids of her own. She lived off the land like an absolute titan. The woman raised you as if she was the one that carried you for nine months and not your actual birth mother.

How would you describe your parents? If your parents were told to list out their priorities in life, their careers would be at the top of the list and you would be put at the very bottom. Why they carried you to term is beyond your understanding. You later learned that Gia had even offered to take you under her care well before your birth, knowing that your parents might not be well-suited to take care of you in the way she thinks would be beneficial for you. It was a convenient offer that would have saved everyone the trouble years down the line when you had your accident. They worked in a cutthroat industry and were constantly moving up the executive echelons. They had no time for you, yet their pride as a pair of young, successful business magnates made them incapable of seeing past the reality of the situation. That left you mostly in the care of last-minute caretakers and your aunts, but only if they had time from their own busy and preoccupied lives to come out into the city and visit.

You were eight years old when things started to get better, but it was upstarted in the worst possible way. Your parents had to go away for the upcoming weekend for work and left you in the care of a babysitter as per the norm. The babysitter never showed up however and your parents apparently couldn’t be bothered to check up on you even once the entire trip. Their silence wasn’t surprising. You just went on about your business for the next three days on your own like nothing was wrong. Your aunt Gia had even called at one point to check up on you, but you didn’t bother to tell her that your parents had left you to fend for yourself. She would have exploded if you did, but not as much as she did when you woke up in the hospital after falling down the stairs and lying helplessly on the ground for several hours with a dislocated shoulder and a compound-fractured leg. You were lulling in and out of consciousness due to all the medication pumped into you, but what little you do remember seeing and hearing when you regained consciousness will forever stick with you for the rest of your life.

If people think your level of swearing is bad, they should have heard your aunt that day. She swore so viciously that it could set an innocent bystander's eardrums on fire. What will forever stand out the most to you was the fact that your parents didn’t even look the least bit apologetic or regretful. They didn’t even approach you once your aunt was done giving them a piece of her mind to check up on you. They simply talked with the awaiting social worker and doctors and then left. It was for the better, but the small part of you that continued to hold onto the desperate belief that your parents would come around one day sent you into a thrashing frenzy and you had to be sedated before you could hurt yourself anymore.

The next year was spent recovering from your injuries, meeting regularly with your caseworker, and going through therapists like a pack of cigarettes. By the time you were back on your feet and the legal proceedings of your custody case were concluded, all you wanted was to move on with it all. Nearly a decade of neglect left you this unattentive, uncertain husk of a person who couldn’t take a single step forward without looking for some sort of guidance or assurance. Your family was exhausted by the entire ordeal and over speaking with third parties. Your aunts took it upon themselves to help you regain your sense of self in the comfort of your new home, no matter how difficult or demanding it was going to be.

“It took some time, but eventually it clicked in my mind that I was in a better place and I started to get better. As for my parents, I have no clue what they’re up to these days.” You lean back into your chair and let out a shaking yawn. “I like to think they’re getting on well like I am.”

“I don’t understand.” Malleus looks at you with unbelievable confusion. “Your parents treated you poorly, yet you don’t sound the least bit resentful. Why is that?”

You shrug your shoulders. “What’s the point? I'm in a better place now, so I've let bygones be bygones. 'Doesn't mean I don't harbor any anger against them anymore. I do, but getting upset won't change what's happened to me."

Gunter, having sensed your discomfort over the matter, trots over and rests his head on your lap. You gratefully rub the top of his head, carding your hands through his thick, coarse hair. "I'm just glad they let me go without a fuss. Family court was hell for my family.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Expensive too.”

Crackling wood fills the momentary silence that befalls the small cottage. What you've recollected to Malleus is a lot to take in, and if you're being quite honest you'd prefer if he just dropped the subject and talked about literally anything else right now. You hope he doesn't say he's sorry or any other type of apologetic comment. That's all you were ever told that entire year it all happened, during court proceedings, your rehabilitation, by both strangers and distant family members alike.

"I'm so sorry. What happened to you was unfortunate. You didn't deserve it."

No shit you didn't deserve any of that. You were a kid. You don’t need one pity party after another to realize that what took place then had fucked you forever. But as you said earlier, you're in a better place now, with a loving and supportive family that's moved on alongside you. A family you need to get back to as soon as possible.

"I love you."

Well, if he was hoping to take your mind off the past. that certainly did it. How can it not? It came out of nowhere and as good as you are at holding your composure when need be, you're sure you look no less like a gaping fish when warm and plush softness presses right against the corner of your lips. A kiss. His kiss.

"What's wrong?" Your voice sounds shaky. You’re nervous.

"Nothing," he smiles reassuringly. "I simply said what I felt needed to be said."

"Fair enough" you concede easily. He was going to say it sooner or later. He already has actually, now that you think about it. Yet here you are trying to process his words like it’s rocket science.

"Am I going about this too fast perhaps?" he genuinely asks. His hands that have been busy massaging your calves that have settled across his lap somewhere during your long retelling gradually slow down, but his hands never go completely still. "This is my first time experiencing something like this."

"What?" You sit up a bit straighter. "A relationship?"

"Yes."

Your head tilts to the side. "Really?"

He nods hesitantly "Yes?"

For a moment, you go completely quiet. "I don't believe you,” you doubtfully say, head shaking to further showcase your refusal to believe him.

He must not have liked your remark, frowning with clear offense in his eyes. When he dislikes something, the vertical slits in his eyes contract into a thin line. "I cannot lie, yet you still doubt me?"

"I know you can't lie, but I find it hard to believe you haven't been with anyone else before," you explain. Before you can consider the appropriateness that was your newfound curiosity about Malleus's apparently non-existent love life, you blurt out, "Are you still a virgin?"

You slap your hand over your mouth the moment those words come out of it. He's equally caught off guard and nearly drops his warm cup of coffee. Even Gunter is surprised by your question, olive-colored eyes looking at you as if you've lost your mind. It's an invasive question, inappropriate even. You and Malleus have been dating for a little over two days. A question like that is way too early to bring up just yet.

"You don't have to answer that," you tell him behind your palm. "I shouldn't have even asked it. Forget I ever brought it up-”

"I'm not," he interrupts you, leaving you even more shocked than you already are. You’re practically gaping like a fish by now. "I'm not a virgin,” he further insinuates.

A deafening silence, but it’s eventually broken by yourself. “I still don’t believe you.”

Malleus gets further annoyed at your refusal to accept his truth. "I'm not lying!" he insists.

"Bullshit!"

"Do you want me to recount my history to you?" he asks, exasperated as you are at the shift the conversation is taking. "Will that satisfy your doubts?"

"You know what? It will!" you loudly declare. "Who'd you sleep with?"

"He was a young page at the time,” he reminisced. “It happened before I was a century old.”

Your eyebrows raise with intrigue. "Was he cute?"

"Yes," he hushedly agrees. The disconcerting admittance paints his face a pinkish-red glow. "But that's not why I bedded him."

"But surely his looks are what made you interested in the first place?” you make blatant regard of the fact.

“You’re not wrong,” he acknowledges, expertly avoiding agreeing with you outright. “But his looks aren't the sole reason I was drawn to him. He was bright-eyed and ambitious, to the point you’d think him insane given his position in the court. It was also the first time I ever truly met with a group of humans, and my young mind was eager to get a more accurate perspective of humans that wasn’t through the lens of my tutors.”

“An ‘accurate perspective’?” You make playful air quotes, eyebrows wiggling because you know the fact that he knows what you’re implying. The playful comment is met with a sharp pinch on your leg that makes you jump and shriek out in pain. Did he have to dig his nails into you? Apparently so, and now you have small crescent indents on your skin. “I bet Lilia had a good laugh when he found out.”

“He doesn’t know, actually,” he admits to you with what is obviously a proud smile.

“Now I know you’re lying to me,” you scoff. “Nothing escapes the old man’s radar.”

His hands begin to rub out the marks he’s left on you as a form of apology. “Lilia is sharp, but he had lost most of his vigor by the time I was born.”

You go wide-eyed again. “You mean his hearing and eyesight was better than it is now?”

He nods affirmatively. “From what I’ve been told, terrifyingly so.”

Lilia is already frightening as is. His short stature and boyish looks make him perfectly unassuming to those who don’t know any better. You once watched him beat up a couple of bulky, twice-his-height students from Savanaclaw without breaking a sweat, yet moments before he was jokingly scolding himself for dozing off so easily. You never once thought he was ever out of his elements. A cold chill runs down your spine thinking how much more perceptive the older fae may have been back during his prime years.

“Wonder what Lilia’s gonna think,” you ponder out loud in a quick effort to banish out the skin-prickling mental imagery your mind was invoking. “About us, I mean.”

Malleus seems surprised that you would change the topic to that of all things, but his initial shock goes away as quickly as it came. “As you may have guessed, he’s an open-minded individual, but he’s also very realistic and unafraid to say what’s on his mind.”

“So what does that mean for you and me?” you question with a bit of hesitation.

“Well,” he trails off and ponders for a moment. “He’ll surely like the scandal our relationship would invoke. However, as my caretaker and mentor, he won’t hesitate to put an end to it if he feels it necessary.”

Had it been anyone else sitting beside you, you’d have found that comment way too extreme and outright ridiculous. However, you are not speaking to anyone ordinary. You are not sitting before someone normal. It doesn't matter how well you get along with him. It sure as hell doesn't matter how deeply in love you are with him, and him of you. The moment you have been deemed a shortcoming, the outings, the closeness, it all stops. All of it will come crashing down and both you and him will be left wondering what could have been done differently.

Malleus is truly your best friend, because already he can tell that your mind is beginning to spiral even when you go quiet. He calls for your attention by gripping his hand around your bare ankle and carefully tugging the end of your limb. “Don’t fret over it too much,” he soothes, yet also sounding like he’s scolding you for letting your mind wander off so negatively. “Lilia is an exceptional judge of character. From what I’ve gathered, you’ve well exceeded all his marks. He trusts you, and to gain such a thing from someone as old and wise as him is an extraordinary feat.”

You brew over the attempted compliment he tried to pay to you. Unfortunately, it doesn’t snub out all these festering thoughts in your head. It doesn’t even give you temporary relief. Perhaps it would have brought you a sense of peace a few months ago, but with everything that has happened thus far, you doubt even Malleus can alleviate the storm that rattles inside you, even if what he speaks is without a doubt nothing but the truth.

Surely he can see that you are still having some hangups. When you lift his hand and plant a chaste kiss on the back of his hand, you hope he can decipher the gesture as a pitiful request for his forgiveness for dampening the once energetic mood. He is not at fault for your loss and inability to think optimistically at the moment and you need to make sure he knows it.

Today is about him, not you. Even if it’s just for today, you’ll put on a pleasant facade and worry about the rest at a later date. It’s just you and him, and for now, that’s enough.

You do a mental countdown starting from three, before finally giving him a late response to the three words he uttered in confidence to you earlier. “I love you too, by the way.”

You love him. You love him. You love him. That’s all his mind can think of for the rest of the day. He replays your reciprocation over and over like it’s sacred and all-powerful.

He had planned to return to his dorm before the sun began to set, but he found the mere idea of detaching from you deeply unwanted and made the last-minute decision to spend the evening at the Ramshackle dorm. He already has a few articles of clothing and personal essentials set up in one of the many empty rooms, so neither Lilia nor you had any objections at his sudden request.

“Don’t worry!” You shout across the room so that Lilia can hear you over his phone. “I’ll make sure he gets to bed on time!”

“You have my gratitude!” Lilia’s muffled voice responds gratefully. “Don’t cause too much trouble now, you two.”

“No promises~” you sing in jest before Malleus hangs up. Once the call ends Johnny, Benji, Franky, and you turn their attention back to their ongoing game of poker. Malleus watches and occasionally laughs to himself over the friendly banter shared between the quartet. At the end of every round, the winner is assaulted with colorful profanities whilst they take their newly won gambling chips with ebullience. Yet with each new dealing of cards, the animosity goes away and they’re all back to being friendly. He finds your interactions with your incorporeal roommates more entertaining than the book he’s been reading to pass the time.

“Hey, fairy boy,” Franky informally calls out toward him. “Don’t be a stranger now. Play a few rounds with us.”

“I’m afraid I’m not well versed in card games,” he admits, yet he still finds himself setting his literature aside and moving over to join them.

“Don’t worry,” you give him a reassuring smile. “They’ll go easy on you.”

“For how long?” he knowingly asks.

You give him an impressed smirk at his quick uptake. “I give it three rounds before they start to pull back their sleeves.”

Malleus is well-adjusted to the need to quickly learn a new topic and the expectation for him to fully comprehend it in full. None of them are harsh on him for his minor mistakes like some of the tutors he’s had in the past. Answers that he believes may be obvious or not as complicated as he thinks they are being answered with enthusiastic patience. The smallest achievements he makes are met with a proud response. When he makes a surprise turnabout and wins his first game, he’s rewarded with an encouraging round of applause by everyone.

“Not bad,” Benji praises as he shuffles the deck of cards. “You’re a fast learner.”

“So I’ve been told,” he humbly replies. “Is this the part where you all stop going easy on me now?”

“Don’t provoke them,” you half-heartedly warn. “Otherwise we’ll be up all night duking it out otherwise.”

Franky sets his glass of iced liquor down on the edge of the table. “Don’t you little lovebirds worry. We won’t take up too much of your well-needed time together.”

Annoyed at the clear jab at his relationship with you, you throw one of your chips towards his head. It passes through his body and clatters on the floor behind him. Your fawn Blossom jumps down from their spot on the couch and goes to sniff it, thinking it to be food, but walks away with a disappointed strut when he realizes it isn’t anything edible.

“I didn’t tell them a damn thing,” you defensively clarify. “It was so obvious what was going on between us that they figured it all out before we made it official.”

He lets out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “That’s...I can’t say I’m too pleased to hear about that.”

“We won’t say anything,” Franky reassures. “Just make sure to put a sock on the door whenever you guys want some alone time.”

“Franky!” you hiss at him. “What the hell?!”

“What?” he looks at you, unbothered by your clear embarrassment. “Do you honestly expect us to think you guys went out just to look at a bunch of statues?”

“Oh, I’m sure they were looking at something,” Johnny smirks. “It wasn’t made of stone though.”

“I hate you guys,” you growl out, arms crossing and leaning back into your seat with an angry huff. You don’t mean it. He can see the tremble of your lips as you try to contain the urge to grin. “Even if we did end up rolling around in the sheets, I wouldn’t be yapping about it for all to hear, much less you guys!”

“What happens in the gargoyle graveyard stays in the gargoyle graveyard, eh?” Franky winks at both Malleus and you, nudging you with his elbow.

“Exactly!” you affirm, batting the large ghost away from you for some much-needed distance. “Now stop being so damn nosy.”

They cackle one last time and everyone seamlessly goes back to their ongoing game. Conversations like the one that just concluded are commonplace in your dormitory. Even if he contributed next to nothing to the discussion, he enjoys watching them interact. You come from a world where ghosts are hardly as overt as the ones in this world. Ghosts are said to entertain themselves by picking on the living, to the point that it can be fatal. Your ability to come up with witticisms at a moment's notice is something he enjoys seeing in action. He feels great satisfaction not only knowing that he has secured your love but to also see you in a state of tranquility and within your elements.

As Benji and you have a hushed conversation on the sidelines, he reaches over and places his hand on your knee beneath the table. You quietly reach over and put your hand over his, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb like it’s instinctual. Unfortunately, the heart-fluttering moment is ruined by the sudden buzzing of his phone. He has half a mind to ignore it, but when he gives the screen a glance he realizes ignoring the caller is not an option.

“I’ll be out for a moment,” he excuses himself once he sets his hand down and stands himself upright. “This shouldn’t take that long, hopefully.”

They all stop to look up at him inquisitively for half a second. In unison, they ask, “Sebek?”

“Sebek,” he affirms.

There are simultaneous displays of annoyance, pity, and silent wishes of good luck directed at him. He’s tempted to ask where all this contempt for the boy comes from, but then he remembers the many times Sebek barges his way into their dorm at the worst possible moments. It is either when everyone is beginning to settle down after a long day or in the middle of an important house project, the former more so than the latter now that the dorm is much more stable and in need of less restoration. Malleus learned the hard way how ill you and the ghosts will react when your peace is unwantedly interrupted and your space invaded by an unwanted guest.

Sebek is also quick to scrutinize whatever he sees out loud without a filter. You never seem to mind half of the time, merely rolling your eyes and moving past Sebek’s ill-meaning remarks as if you never heard them. As you are someone Malleus highly regards and holds close to his bosom, he hopes Sebek can one day set aside his strife with humankind and give you the due diligence you deserve.

...Though, he completely understands that reaching that point will take time. While you can endure Sebek to a certain degree, there are times where he, unfortunately, pushes you past that threshold and, without flinching, you will tell him to “Shut the fuck up”. Your words, not his.

“Young master!” Sebek's transmitted voice peaks and he has to half pull it away to give his pained eardrums some relief. “I was informed by Lord Lilia that you will be spending the night over at the Human’s dorm. Have you all your accommodations at their estate? If not, I will swiftly-”

“That won’t be necessary,” he half laughs at his enthusiasm over such a small task. “I have enough to keep me comfortable and well for a few days. Your offer is still very much appreciated.”

“Y-Yes, of course,” he stutters. “If there’s anything you should ever find a need for, please inform me at once! I will fulfill your every wishes no matter the hour!”

He’s enthusiastic and ready to act at a moment’s notice, even during the middle of a cold and dark hour. Malleus doesn’t necessarily dislike this part of Sebek, but he’s starting to understand why someone like you would find such subservience difficult to deal with. At any moment, Malleus could ask Sebek to grab some insignificant item of his and tread through the thick snow to deliver it to him, and the boy would do so with jubilation and utmost timeliness. You on the other hand wouldn’t be caught dead ordering someone to do something on your behalf when you believe you are well and capable of doing it yourself.

You don’t put expectations onto the backs of others, choosing to trust yourself first before anyone else. He knows now that it’s a result of the one instance where you expected something from someone, only to be thoroughly let down and left wondering if it was you who did something wrong.

Malleus cannot make up for the pain you’ve been subjected to, but he hopes that he can become the outlier in your life that surpasses any preconceived notions you may hold onto others. He hopes...No, he absolutely will be the one who brings you your well-earned and deserved joy and repose, just as you have done for him and continue to do so.

You love him, and he will ensure he is worthy of every last drop of your fidelity.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst writing #twst fanfic #fanfic: courtship #reader insert #reader insert fanfic #reader insert fanfiction #gender neutral reader #gender neutral pronouns #x reader

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hauntedlibrarian2222 · 2 years ago

Text

Part 1.E

October 11th, ####

So, I’m finally back from the hospital. Collin kept the library in— really good shape, actually, despite the ‘Tony Incident’ (as he’s named it). Kinda.. kept it in better shape than I do, myself, which is— kinda embarrassing. But, oh well, the extra help was.. nice? I really need to make time to properly thank him; he does way too much for me and I do way too little for him. Maybe I’ll get him another book? Either way, I think I’ll, uh, have to condemn myself to small talk. I wanna figure out what he likes and get him something nice, it’s the least I could do for him, having saved and covered my ass for the fourth time. I always thank him, it just.. I dunno, it doesn’t feel like enough.

Either way, I got back today. It was weirdly quiet, but my lovely and dependable friend, the fucking ankle biter, was still roosted in it’s corner as per usual. It seemed.. sad, though? Usually, when I look at it, I just feel.. anger— but not my own. But this time it was sadness? Just overwhelming, choking, acrid sadness. And, weirdly enough, after staring for a bit it.. left. It fucking left. Or, uh, it more so disappeared. But that’s something it’s never done before, ever.

Maybe Collin found it and knocked some sense into it, pfff. That’d be funny.

Other then that, though, the library was normal. Tony was in the upstairs, as per usual; and through a rasped, hoarse throat he complained to me about Collin. That marks maybe the second time he’s spoken to me.

“Curator,” He spat “What was up with the.. thee.. blonde.. the blond? Why?”

“Sorry, that was just Collin. I— uh, I’m sure you noticed I was out for a bit—“

“They came upstairs!!”

“.. Yes, I know. They told me.”

With Tony giving a distressed whine that rattled against his throat, they’d slump against the railings.

“Whyyyy..”

“I— was out, for a bit. Uh,.. hospital. I left him in charge of cleaning, and he- just.. went up there, man. I told him not to, but it wasn’t to— like.. spite you, or something.” I raised my free hand defensively, the other still wrapped around a stack of books I was returning, “Promise?”

With another rattled whine, he’d then groan— dramatically pulling himself off the railing.

I don’t think I ever described Tony, have I?

“Fineee,.. will he be baaaack?”

“Yes, but not to clean. They won’t disturb you.”

“Good.”

Sticking out a dried and old tongue, Tony would then slink away into the darkness of the upstairs. The bulbs were still busted; no matter how many times I’d replace them, they’d break. I’m pretty sure it’s him breaking them, honestly. It’d check out, he really likes his ‘darkness disappearing act of the century’, as he calls it.

Tony was.. interesting. He was relatively humanoid, but wore clothes akin to what you’d probably imagine some medieval farmer to wear. Honestly? I’m convinced he’s a ghost, or something. The ends of his hands and feet are frayed— they fade out. Plus, his skin is.. dry, and old; same with his tongue; same with his previously blue eyes, now just really a faded and milky gray. Typical ‘ghost’ crap, I’d think. It’s weird, but I’ve gotten used to it. He just looks.. normal to me, now.

Oh, he also wears a hat; a hat he stole from me, actually. I dared to leave one of my beanies out one day, only for it to disappear. Then Tony had it. When I asked for it back, he just cracked a scraggly smile and disappeared again.

.. He’s.. really weird looking, now I realize. Not bad weird, just.. weird.

Same with Collin, kinda. He never dresses with the weather, and he’s.. massive. Around this time of year, it’s usually— pretty cold. About 10°C in the day, 4°C at night; stuff like that. These days, he usually wears a damn tank top, just a thin ass tank top, with an old aviator’s jacket. Except he only wears the jacket inside? I don’t get it; I don’t get him. He’s the most.. normal-weird person I’ve ever met, and it’s so disorientating.

It isn’t necessarily bad, though. I wouldn’t call it bad, I wouldn’t— really call any of him bad. He’s just.. weird. Pff.

The day went on normally, after that. As normal as it is here usually, anyhow. I set some books away that had caught dust, checked that all the shelves were still intact, fixed the boiler, and some other stuff. All very mundane things. Now, I’m kind of just.. sitting around, really. I’ve got a book I plan to read, that’s about it.

Today’s been calm.

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#hauntedlibrary #hl #ic #in character #1.E #story #paranormal fiction #paranormal #fantasy #writing #multiple parts

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 4 years ago

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What if...

For the record, I blame @phrenic-a and @mountevey for this one... I, uh, think maybe three parts? Four? And just posting it here, not on AO3, as I DON’T DO AUS! ...except for this one, it seems. *sigh*

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if...

Part 1

Rated T for a slight touch of gloom before the fluff can start

It has been three months since they left Seswenna. Three months since she told Macero she was bringing Corin along to scout for some new outfits and her husband barely bothering to pay attention to the end of the sentence.

They couldn’t stay on Seswenna any longer. Corin is turning five soon and Macero had been hinting heavily at how was time for the boy to start his training and that it was way overdue for her to produce another child. Macero has plans and a schedule to keep.

But as neither scenario was an option for Dulsissia, she found a ship going to the most distant, dark corner of the Galaxy, scraped together some credits that Macero didn’t know about and bought two tickets.

She and Corin left that very day.

As there was no way for her to bring lots of credits without alerting Macero, Dulsissia brought as much jewellery as she dared, hoping that would be enough to last them a good while, but she had no idea that decent living quarters, servants and proper food were so expensive. And while she’d been aware of that she’d have to find some way to earn a living for her and her son, Dulsissia quickly learned that none of her skills were something that someone one this foreign, gritty and vulgar planet were willing to pay for. Here credits went to food and booze, not fashion and beauty. Here there was nothing but concrete on the ground and thick, suffocating smoke in the sky.

It hadn’t taken long before they were running out of funds and this is why they now no longer have a roof over their heads and why the food has been so scarce the last couple of days.

Her sweet, sweet boy has been so good these months. Hardly asking any questions, never complaining, simply following her like a baby-Porg with blind trust and love. Dulsissia’s heart is breaking over the fact that she’s going to fail him.

They can’t go on like this. She refuses to let him starve. They will go back and she will face Macero’s wrath before she lets her child end up like one of the unfortunate souls they see scuttling around in the alleyways here.

Lost in her misery, she doesn’t notice the danger until it is too late. An arm goes around her waist and she’s yanked away from her son. Corin calls out for her, his thin voice filled with panic, but she can’t reply as a dirty hand covers her mouth and she is fighting to free herself.

It’s a human man drawling all kinds of horrible things into her ear, clearly drunk and unwilling to pay for female company. A second voice joins in. Two of them.

Dulsissia panics, just like her son, but no matter how she fights; they are too strong and she can’t break free.

The sound of a blaster being fired is frightfully loud, but as the man lets go of Dulsissia; she’s too busy breaking free and running forward to drop to her knees and cradle Corin protectively against herself to care. The boy clings to her with desperation.

A second shot. Someone nearby falls to the ground. Dulsissia tries to cover Corin’s ears and closes her eyes while hot tears trail down her face.

She never should have left. She should have found a different way. She should have never brought Corin here. Even Macero was better than this. She would have found a way to shield Corin from his wrath. She never should have left…

“Are you two okay?” A slightly robotic voice asks.

Tensing up, Dulsissia hesitates, wondering what new horror will follow what she’s just been through, then slowly looks up at the towering shape standing there.

It is a humanoid looking being, but it is wearing blue armor and a blue helmet concealing their face. They holster a massive blaster and the helmet tilts a little in what could almost look like concern.

Dulsissia nods. She keeps Corin close, shielded from the stranger. “Thank you.” She says in a half-whisper as her throat hurts from trying to scream earlier. She hopes good manners might keep the stranger, who looks like a male, in a benign mood and that he’d not simply take over where the others had left off.

“This area is not safe. Where are you going?” The stranger asks.

Dulsissia hesitates, reluctant to tell him anything but scared she might provoke him if she doesn’t. She’s very aware of the two bodies still twitching on the ground. She says the first thing that comes to her mind. “The marked.”

A moment of silence, then the helmet nods. “I’ll escort you two there.”

There is another jab of reluctance, but Dulsissia doesn’t dare decline. Also, if they are around others, he might not dare to do anything… unseemly. She slowly straightens, keeping one hand on Corin’s head as he shifts to cling to her leg instead of her torso. “That would be very kind of you.”

The stranger turns and takes a couple of steps before he stops and looks back at her.

Dulsissia takes a deep breath, strokes Corin’s hair and then the two follow this armored stranger.

Their mysterious saviour doesn’t speak again until he comes to a halt at the outskirts of the busy marketplace filled with all kinds of shouting merchants and odd smells. “Will you be okay here?”

Dulsissia nods again, eager to be rid of him.

“Mommy…” Corin tugs at her skirts. “I’m hungry…”

“I know, baby.” Dulsissia replies, stroking his hair and feeling the urge to cry again. She wants to crouch down, look him in the eyes and explain things, but she doesn’t dare take her eyes of the stranger.

He’s looking at Corin.

“Can we eat here, Mommy?” Corin asks with hope in his voice.

“Later, baby.” Dulsissia replies and hopes with all her heart that she isn’t lying.

The helmet shifts its attention up to her, the t-shaped visor feels like it is burrowing under her skin, and the stranger stares at her for several long seconds. “Let me buy you some food.”

Dulsissia swallows hard. “That is very kind of you, but you’ve already done enough…”

A glance down at Corin again and then back at her, and the stranger nods towards the food stalls. “Come. The boy can choose. Anything he wants.”

Corin tugs eagerly at her skirt and she dares a glance down at her son. His eyes are filled with excitement instead of worries for the first time since they’d been forced to leave their apartment. His little face is dirty, she notes with a jab of disappointment in herself. Forcing herself to smile, she nods to Corin and makes herself look at the stranger’s visor. “If you insist.”

The stranger gestures for them to take the lead and they do.

Not long after that, they are seated by a table, Dulsissia and Corin on one side, the stranger sitting at the opposite side, and the boy is inhaling the huge plate of deep fried ‘something’ in front of him. Dulsissia uses the opportunity to wipe off some of the dirt on Corin’s face before shifting more food from her plate over to his.

The silent stranger watches her and while she can’t see his eyes, she can feel them. Strangely enough it doesn’t feel like he’s ogling her like those men had. Dulsissia gets the feeling that he’s trying to figure her out. Like she’s some puzzle to him.

Like he wasn’t the mysterious one? Appearing out of the shadows to save her from horrors? Offering to buy food for her child? Declining to get anything to eat for himself but insisting she get food too.

Dulsissia looks directly at his visor, sees the helmet move a little as he shifts his gaze away, if she didn’t know better she’d say a little embarrassed after getting caught looking at her. “What is your name?” She asks.

“I’m Davarax.” He replies. “May I ask for yours?”

“Dul-” Oh, old habit, she wasn’t supposed to use her real name, “-cy. I’m Dulcy. And this..” Dulsissia places her hand on Corin’s head to introduce him, but the boy beats her to it.

“I’m Corin!” He grins, mouth filled with food.

Dulsissia closes her eyes for a second. So much for not using their real names. She glues on a smile and looks over at Davarax again. “Dulcy and Corin.”

“Why are you wearing a helmet?” Corin asks and she prods his shoulder, reminding him not to speak with his mouth full and to stop asking questions. He closes his mouth and chews.

“I am a Mandalorian.” Davarax replies, as if he didn’t mind answering. (Macero would always get annoyed when Corin asked about anything.) “My Creed tells me to always wear it.”

“Always?” Corin’s eyes go huge again. “How do you eat?”

Davarax exhales what sounds like a little laugh. “I can take it off when I’m alone.”

Dulsissia frowns a little. She’s heard about Mandalorians, has she not? Mercenaries? It would certainly explain why he was so efficient in shooting those two men and seem completely unfazed by the situation. It would also explain why he’s so… muscular.

“My turn to ask a question.” Davarax says and turns his attention to her. “Do you have a weapon?”

Suddenly all the anxiousness that had been starting to seep away rushes back into her and Dulsissia tenses up. She tries to keep a blank expression. She shakes her head.

Sighing, Davarax nods. “Thought as much.” He reaches down his side. “On this planet, looking like you do and with a kid to keep safe, you’re going to need a weapon to protect yourself and him with.” Pulling up a fierce looking vibro-blade, Davarax doesn’t activate it, merely flips it over to hold the blade while offering her the hilt. “Here. Take it.”

She hesitates, but eventually Dulsissia cautiously reaches out and takes the weapon. It feels cold and heavy in her hand. For the third time in a short time, Corin’s eyes grow huge.

“Don’t hesitate.” Davarax tells her. “If someone comes after you, deal with them. Swift and hard. No regret. Understand?”

Looking from the blade and over to him, to the emotionless t-visor, Dulsissia manages a faint nod.

It’s the first time she’s ever held a weapon of any kind. Not counting cutlery. Or gossip. An actual weapon. And she’s not entirely sure she likes the feeling. It’s intimidating.

But she pulls the blade close and decides to keep it. While she might not like the feel of a weapon, she will use it to protect her son. That’s not even a hard choice to make. “Thank you.”

Davarax nods, pleased at her accepting it.

“Why are you helping us?” Dulsissia asks, shame burning in her cheeks at having to accept pity from strangers.

“Because you needed help.” Davarax replies. “Because no real Mandalorian will turn their back on a child in distress.”

Suddenly curious, Dulsissia asks before she can stop herself. “Do you have children?”

“Four. Four amazing little ones.” Davarax replies with badly hidden pride. His shoulders even pull back a little in a preening move that he’s definitely not aware of as he follows it up with an awkward shrug right after. “I mean… Technically they’re not mine. I’m their teacher.”

Dulsissia can’t help but to smile, charmed by his reply, and she remembers how she’d wished her tutor had been her real father. “Lucky them.”

Davarax shrugs again and to her amusement, the mighty warrior does appear a little awkward. He probably did not mean to reveal so much about himself. She hides a smile by daintily picking up a piece of food and nibbling on it while moving the rest over onto Corin’s plate.

“Should I get some more?” Davarax asks. “You should eat some too, you know.”

Dulsissia shakes her head, despite the hunger gnawing in her belly. As long as her son is full, she’s fine. And while Davarax did not hesitate to buy whatever food Corin had pointed at and has given her what looks to be a valuable vibroblade, she’s not blind to the worn down look of his armor and clothing. He might be generous, but he’s not rich.

After stuffing himself beyond what he probably should by cleaning the plate yet again, Corin makes a faint sound of pain and moves over to lean against her. “My tummy aches….”

“I’m not surprised,” Dulsissia replies with a smile, leaning down and kissing his hair, “you ate like a Rancor.”

Corin laughs a little but remains leaning against her and it doesn’t take long before he’s drowsing.

Sighing, Dulsissia strokes his dark hair and feels the guilt suffocating her again. Her poor boy is finally full, but now the exhaustion from barely any sleep over these last couple of nights is setting in and she needs to find out where to seek shelter for the night without any credits to pay for it.

Either Davarax reads her mind or he just picks up on Corin’s exhaustion, but he once again looks at the boy and then her and asks his question. “Where are you staying tonight?”

Dulssisia clenches her jaw and looks away. The humiliation burns.

A second pass, then two, and finally it seems like he understands. “Oh.” Silence follows and if not for how Corin is more of less asleep on her arm, Dulsissia would have walked away.

“Listen,” Davarax says, shifting his weight a little, “don’t take this the wrong way, but you two could join me in my room. This place is even less safe at night.” He shrugs one shoulder. “I would rent you your own room, but, well, they’re really-”

“Expensive, I know.” Dulsissia cuts him off. Her face is burning even hotter now, both with the continued humiliation of being broke and what sharing a room with a strange man might include.

“I give you my word you’ll be safe.” Davarax says with firm conviction. “Both of you.”

Dulsissia knows she shouldn’t. She knows it could be a trap. But she also knows she needs to find a place her son can sleep without fear or danger hanging over his head. “Tell me the names of your children.” She asks.

“Paz, Barthor, Raga and little Din.” Davarax replies no hesitation, but with a touch of confusion. “Why?”

Dulsissia smiles and shakes her head. “No reason. Just curious.” So he wasn’t lying about the children. He knew their names by heart. A teacher. She decides to risk it.

Corin is fast asleep by the time they decide to head to the inn. Dulsissia hoists him up and grunts with the effort. He’s still her baby boy, but he is definitely getting bigger. Arms and legs hanging down, dangling with the apathy only a sleeping child can produce, Corin burrows his face to her neck and sleeps on.

Seeing her struggle, Davarax reaches out. “Here. I’ll take him.”

“No.” Dulsissia’s answers is short and hard, and she turns to shield her son from the Mandalorian.

No one is taking her son away from her.

Davarax lifts his hands in a sign of backing off and nods. He then gestures to one of the large buildings looming behind the others. “This way.”

Dulsissia tries to focus on Davarax as they walk to avoid thinking about the weight of Corin. (He must be extra heavy from all the food.) The Mandalorian is tall. Dulsissia had some height on most women on Seswenna, but he is so tall he makes her seem short. And while the armor might make him seem even bigger, there is enough of him without the blue plates so she can tell that, yes, there is definitely muscle there. He walks with the grace of a predator.

Dulsissia feels a prickle of fear and is actually grateful for the reassuring weight of the vibroblade in her pocket.

They enter a grey tower of a building, head up to the third floor, passing by one rowdy soul after another, before entering the safety of their temporary refuge. The relief of being inside is quickly snuffed out by Dulsissia seeing, with rising despair, that there is only one bed in the room.

She clutches the sleeping Corin close, but doesn’t get the chance to panic or run for the door before Davarax walks over to the transparisteel and flips the switch to block the sound and light from outside and says; “Don’t worry. You two take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor. It’s okay, it’s what I usually do on missions anyway. Few places I travel to have inns.”

Dulsissia hesitates. It feels wrong that the man who had paid for the room was now forced to sleep on the floor, but… She looks at the sleeping boy in her arms and her heart breaks again. Her pride dictates that they’ve accepted far too much charity from this stranger as it is, but her maternal heart doesn’t care. Her boy can sleep in a bed tonight.

Gently easing Corin down on the bed, a wistful smile appears on her face when he makes a happy sound at the soft mattress and Dulsissia tucks him in. Once that is done, she turns to look over at where Davarax has settled on the floor next to the wall with the transparisteel.

He lies on his back, hands folded on his stomach, his blaster on the floor next to him, and his visor staring up at the ceiling. His helmet. He can’t even remove his helmet as long as they’re there. He hasn’t eaten either, only provided food to them.

Dulsissia swallows hard, reaches out and takes one of the two pillows on the bed, the one Corin is not using, before cautiously making her way over to Davarax. She holds it out to him.

He shakes his head. “I don’t need it. I’m used to this and the helmet has padding. It’s fine.”

“Please.” Dulsissia says. Her final fragment of pride giving up. She can’t pay him back, but… she can give him her pillow.

He looks over at her, watches her for a couple of seconds, then he slowly reaches out and takes the pillow. “Thanks.”

Dulsissia nods, turns away and walks back towards the bed and her sleeping son. She’s almost there when she hears Davarax speak.

“Are you two running away from something?”

With her back towards the Mandalorian, Dulsissia stands by the bed and looks at Corin. He looks peaceful and content. It takes so very little to make that boy happy. “Yes.” After everything this man has done for them, she can’t lie.

“Is there someone out there hunting you?”

Dulsissia closes her eyes. She sees Macero’s face. She knows he was probably beyond livid when he discovered what she’d done; taken their son and disappeared. Left him. She knows his pride will never give up and that he is searching for them this very moment. “Yes.”

Davarax doesn’t ask any more questions so she climbs into bed and curls herself around her son. She has no idea what to do tomorrow, but Dulsissia is so very, very tired… and soon she’s asleep.

A gentle grip on her shoulder wakes her the next morning and she opens her eyes with a violent start that also wakes her son and has him go from relaxed to frightened within a second.

“Sorry.” Davarax says, pulling his hand away. “I tried to call your name. Neither of you responded. I was starting to worry there was something wrong.”

Dulsissia sits up and automatically pulls Corin close, wrapping her arms protectively around him despite how he calmed the second he saw the Mandalorian. “No, I’m sorry. I guess I was more tired than I…” She sees the small table to the left has several small containers with what her nose tells her is food. Davarax can’t eat his breakfast before they’re gone. “...than I was aware of.” She lamely finishes and dreads the second Corin smells it too. How is she to explain to him that she has no breakfast for him? “We’ll be out of your room in a minute.”

Davarax gestures to the table. “Eat. Please.”

Corin’s head snaps up and he scouts around the room. “Breakfast?” He starts pushing his mother away, trying to free himself. “So hungry!”

“Baby, no.” Dulsissia says, holding him back. “That’s Davarax’ food.”

“I ate earlier.” Davarax says, walking over to flip the switch that will make the tansparisteel let light and sound in again. “This is for you two.”

Letting Corin go in another wave of defeat, feeling like an utter failure, Dulsissia just sits on the bed while her son eats. Corin happily digs into the containers and pulls out treats with glee.

“Dulcy…” Davarax says, and his voice is suddenly so very soft and gentle. Like he isn’t some random stranger they just met, who has done more for her son than she’s been able to do in days. Like he is someone who cares. “You have to eat.”

Nodding, she’s used to doing what she’s told, Dulsissia gets up and walks over to the table. The first mouthfuls are difficult, she’s struggling not to spit it back out, but then Corin looks over at her and gives her a wide, happy grin. He lost a tooth last week. Her sweet baby boy.

Okay, enough self-pity. Keep going, girl. For Corin.

Dulsissia eats.

By the time they leave the room, Corin is both filled up with food and sleep and is once again the energetic child she’d seen during the first weeks of their freedom. He’s running around, exploring and darting back to her and Davarax when things get too scary, and Dulsissia smiles. She has a moment of fear when Corin decides to jump up and grab a hold of Davarax’ arm and use him as a rope-swing, but instead of getting angry, the Mandalorian merely sways him back and forth. He even answers every single one of Corin’s billion questions until Dulsissia orders her son to stop pestering the man.

The sun is almost strong enough to break through the heavy smoke in the sky today. Corin is watching a couple of teenage Zabraks play some game with a leatherball in an empty parking area while Dulsissia and Davarax sit on a fallen tree nearby.

“Your children,” Dulsissia says, happy to pretend this is just a normal day, “what are they like?”

Davarax hums and there is a smile in that sound. “Paz was my first. He’s a handful. He’s as tall and broad-shouldered as kids five years older than him and he loves to pick fights. But once you get under that tough surface, that boy is a giant softie who thinks it is his job to look after everyone. Barthor, my second one, is the most clever creature I’ve ever met. His intelligence is off the charts. He gets frustrated because the rest of us take so long to catch up to what he already knows, poor soul. Now, my third, Raga…” Davarax sighs and looks over at her. “She’s the scary one. Paz more or less persuaded me to train her because no one else wanted her. Her temper, teeth and absolute lack of fear has made her quite infamous at the Covert. It’s a shame so few get to see her sweet side, because she does have one.” The Mandalorian turns his attention over to Corin. “And then there is little Din. Your boy reminds me of him. I found Din shortly after his parents were killed. He was adopted by some friends of mine, but I get the feeling it’s not going too well…”

Mesmerized, Dulsissia cannot imagine for a second that Macero would be this caring about any of his children that he’d end up having. “They are lucky to have you.”

Davarax shrugs. “I feel like I’m the lucky one. Children are a blessing to Mandalorians.”

Smiling, Dulsissia looks over at Corin as well and they sit in silence for a while.

“I have to leave soon.” Davarax says, blurting it out as if he’s been holding it in for a while.

The words act like a fist clenching around Dulsissia’s stomach. She’d known this was just a temporary break in the nightmare that is her life these days, a brief respite, but she still hates that it has to end already. “Oh.” Corin is going to be devastated too.

“I finished my mission this morning when I got the food.” Davarax says. “I have to go back to the Covert. Report in. Check on my kids. Do some repairs on my ship.”

Dulsissia nods, but can’t look over at him. “I understand.” She forces herself to smile again. She’s good at that. “Well, thank you for everything you’ve done for us. For saving me, but most of all for the kindness you’ve shown Corin. He hasn’t had much of that in his life…”

Davarax doesn’t answer right away and she worries that her words hadn’t been grateful enough. She’s just distracted by how she can feel despair snapping at her heels at the thought of what lies ahead of her. She will fight a way to feed and house her son, but she knows it won’t be easy. And it scares her how close she’d been to going back to Macero…

“You could come with me?” Davarax says the words with the amount of caution you’d use for a skittish dewback. “You and Corin, you could come stay at the Covert for a while. You would be safe from alley creepers and no one would find you there.”

Dulsissia stares at him. “But… I’m not a Mandalorian. Neither is Corin.”

“The leader of our Tribe will let you two stay if I ask her.” Davarax sounds certain in his words. “I promise you, there will be a place for you there. We can teach you how to fight, how to protect yourself and your son. We can help you keep him safe.”

Dulsissia considers it, looks over at her son and knows what he would say, but the boy is too trusting. Corin still thinks his father is a good man at heart. “If he found out, he would destroy your Covert. I can’t repay your kindness by bringing evil to your door.”

“I can promise you,” Davarax leans closer, “that if this fool tries to challenge my Tribe, we won’t be the ones to be destroyed.”

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #Dulsissia Motti #Davarax #Baby Corin #Fearsome Four #Mandorin AU #I SWORE I WOULDN'T WRITE THIS

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katsukavi · 3 years ago

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I wanted to make this a full fanfiction on my wattpad, but I didn’t want to disappoint everyone with the super slow updates (like my scumlord lol) so.. here’s crap I pulled out of my notes called arise, undead (“pretty obsessed” sung jin-woo x male, zombie reader) I also really like the options I have in tumblr lol. I’m a little embarrassed to add tags because I’m not sure if people will like it and stuff.. But yeah! This is the book cover I made for it here too! :D

Im having too much fun with these new stuff~ (please excuse me. this is my first long post and i love everything here—)

(spoilers)

The plot is that Jin-Woo finds an undead in the woods, tries to arise him and it does work. Now they fight together because the zombie has no memories and is literally immortal (yet dead). Near the end, they discover that MC was murdered and his body was buried in the woods yada yada. Then when Jin-Woo goes back, he has to save him. But, he has to save MC as a 15 year old while MC is a 27 year old..

(I planned that part out and I think it’s a little funny how suddenly a kid approaches you like “You’re going to die if you go somewhere. Come with me, I’m your lover from the future.”

“Ah, it’s a chuunibyou.. Sorry kid, but I need to go to work—“

“No.”

‘Alive or not, MC still looks like a zombie.. Why are you so overworked?!’)

IT WAS SUNG JIN-WOO’S FIRST TIME using his new job skills, so naturally he’d get excited in testing every single little thing about it. He just exited the purple hued portal behind him, feeling like he acquired an interesting new toy to play with. Even though he was tired from the lack of sleep, his joy kept him from passing out.

Either it was that, or the rain pouring over his head. All his excitement flushed into disappointment as his shoes got muddy from the damp forest foor and his clothes getting completely soaked in rainwater. It would be impossible to pass out with the loud thunder rumbling in the background.

He cursed with every step on his path, finding it hard to walk with the slippery and uneven soil, his vision blurry from water and dark skies and his body dragging itself against harsh rain. Unfortunately, he was also already very exhausted.

Out of all the times for a thunderstorm, why did it have to be right after the job change quest?

From behind the trees, he heard a low distorted roar—forcing him to dip his head towards it’s direction. He held a dagger in one hand, trying to make out its shape from behind the trees.

It was in a humanoid shape, making him relax just a little bit. “Is anyone there?” he questioned.

His voice seemed to reach the stranger as they left their hiding spot in the trees’ shade. The person looked to be a man wearing a formal suit, diluted blood marking over his chest and face. Even though he looked human, he didn’t seem to breathe, just limply staring at Jin-Woo with a blank and lifeless expression.

Strangely, the stranger’s (s/c) skin was pale, like blood hasn’t been pumping through his veins. But attacking a person because they looked really sick wasn’t a good thing, it’s like attacking an overworked person because they looked so dead. It was either it was too dark or the view was too blurry.

“Hello?” Jin-Woo called out one time, staying cautious from the stranger. It lunged at Jin-Woo with a raspy growl, nearly scratching his face. Jin-Woo ducked, a small scratch appearing on his face from the speed. It definitely wasn’t human.

Sung Jin-Woo was already fatigued, at a disadvantage with the location as well. He cursed, barely dodging every slash thrown at him. “Igris!” he called out, the shadow materialising from behind him. Igris grabbed the humanoid monster, a splash of mud splattering around as it was thrown.

Sung Jin-Woo stabbed it deep in the chest, not a single drop of blood spilling out as he stepped back to breathe. He put his hands on his knees, staring at the lifeless corpse as he sent Igris back. ‘It seems pretty strong.. Should I extract it?’

He took a deep breath, getting closer to the body as he raised his hand. His posture was elegant, holding a composed expression as droplets of rain streamed down his attractive face, adding to his charm. A deep and soothing voice left his mouth, sending chills to anyone who would hear it.

“Arise.”

Though unfortunately, the Shadow Monarch was greeted with nothing but silence and the sound of ambient rain. That’s odd, if it was a failed extraction then a notification would pop up to let him know or something. Was the system suddenly broken? If that’s the case, he should try again.

“Arise.. arise. ARISE!” he shouted multiple times, but a shadow didn’t get extracted. He furrowed his brows, squatting down to find out the cause of his skill suddenly breaking. “Why isn’t it working..?” he mumbled under his breath, getting closer to the body with a puzzled look on his face.

“Arise. Arise. Arise arise arise. Wake up. Rise and shine. Arise. Awake. Good morning. Arise.”

“I’m not dead yet, dimwit.”

Did the body just.. talk back to him?

“You didn’t hear anything,” Jin-Woo blurted out, getting embarrassed from the montage of Arise and synonyms he was saying to something that was alive. He stabbed the body once again, trying to kill it as he attempted once more. “Arise.”

“You don’t have to try again. I’m not dead,” the man just sat up like it was just his average tuesday, sliding out the blade from his chest, handing it to Jin-Woo and dusting off his clothes. The undead just raised his head towards the sky, watching clouds part as he lifted his palm, no more droplets landing on top of it. “Oh, the rain is clearing up.”

“Excuse me. Didn’t you just try to attack me?”

“Did I? I don’t remember,” the stranger scratched the back of his neck, looking bored as he yawned. “My name is (L/n) (M/n), age 27. And you are?”

“Sung Jin-Woo, 24.”

“Nice meeting you. Now where in the hell am I?”

/////////////////////////////

(L/N) (M/N) HAD A NASTY SCOWL on his face, plopping the sewing kit on Jin-Woo’s bed as he angrily tried to open it with one arm. Unfortunately, someone had cut off his right arm that he spent ages trying to sew back on.

“What next, my leg?” he cursed under his breath as Sung Jin-Woo opened it for him. “Wait a minute,” Jin-Woo said, sticking the end of his arm to his shoulder. “Hold this,” he said, making (M/n) keep his limb in one place as he put the thread in the needle.

“What?” The zombie still looked very angry, knitting his brows together as he held still. “I thought you needed a hand,” Jin-Woo lightly joked, trying to make (M/n)’s mood towards him a little better. The undead male gave him his signature dead stare, tightly holding his severed upper arm before speaking.

“Jin-Woo, I am dead serious here.”

He started to lightly chuckle, noticing that Sung Jin-Woo was almost finished with sewing his arm back on his body. “Hey, you’re pretty good at this.” His remark made Jin-Woo smile as he opened and closed his hand, almost as if it was brand new.

“My clothes kept getting ripped when I was E-Rank. I learned naturally.”

“The next time you rip off my limbs, please fix them too,” (M/n) said, flailing his right hand in the air with satisfaction.

“Well next time. I’m sure I’ll make you mine.”

“I doubt that.”

///////////////////////////// (now it’s just random dialogues i pulled out of my idea dump lol)

“OH HECK! There goes my leg!”

“Oh no... He’s dead! It’s not like I’m happy about it or anything~! ...Arise arise arise arise—“

“IM NOT DEAD!”

“God damn it.. Jin-Woo, could you go fetch my torso, and my arms and my legs and uh.. my head. Yes, thank you.”

“You don’t have a heartbeat and your skin is ice cold. I stabbed you 32 times. How are you still moving?”

“Dunno, ask Jesus.”

“I CAN’T BREATHE! I’M DYING.”

“You don’t breathe, (M/n).”

“Oh yeah, you’re right.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you want me dead or if you want me alive. Which one is it?”

“Either way is fine as long as you’re mine.”

“Gross, necrophiliac.”

“Good night, (M/n).”

“Good night, Jin-Woo..”

“Alright.. arise arise arise arise arise arise arise—“

“Once again, I am not dead.”

“You’re not useless, (M/n). Because when you die, I WILL MAKE YOU MY SHADOW.”

“HOW IS THAT SUPPOSED TO COMFORT ME?!”

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ceilingfan5 · 4 years ago

Text

Out of This World

congratulations to my 500 followers giveaway winner @terezis, who asked for “alien taako accidentally kidnaps kravitz”

and thanks to everyone who participated!!!

“Where the hell are you going at this hour?” Kravitz’s roommate Sloane asks, looking up from the egregious snuggling she’s got going on with her girlfriend. On Kravitz’s couch, no less.

“Didn’t you see that light? I have to go investigate! It could be- It could be any number of things! A meteor, a spatial anomaly, maybe even a-”

“Helicopter?” Sloane’s voice is dryer than the toast he had for dinner. Kravitz doesn’t let it dampen his mood.

“It could be something truly mysterious, and I can’t abide letting well enough alone.”

“You never can,” she sighs. “Well, be safe out there. Don’t forget your keys.”

“Mhm,” Kravitz says, jamming his feet into mismatched shoes. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Super won’t, so don’t die or get kidnapped or whatever.”

“I’ll be perfectly fine!”

And Kravitz, who has no sense of predilection or self-preservation, thunders down the stairs and out into the streets with his fifty dollar flashlight and a passionately misplaced sense of adventure.

He startles a few street cats, coos at a racoon, trips over trash, and just past the apartment complex, he spots it again. That powerful blue glow. It’s in the wrong direction for some kind of event or party--it’s closer to the farms at the edge of town than it is anything that ought to be blue in the middle of the night. And then, as Kravitz gets closer, he hears a hum, a soft, thrumming, nearly musical hum, and he sees it, he fucking sees it-

A spaceship.

He cackles in unbridled validated glee and then slaps his hands over his mouth, dropping his fancy flashlight with all the lumens money can buy, reflecting on its way to the ground in three pairs of glowing gold eyes and a mouthful of sharp, sharp teeth.

Something like a cross between static electricity and cement-hard water from doing a belly flop hits him, and he doesn’t see it anymore.

He wakes up in a space so white that it’s blue, searing his eyes with the brightness. His whole body is sore, but in a heavy way that almost feels nice. He blinks slowly, his eyelids sticking like windshield wipers on an old car during the first snow of the season, and something--someone? humanoid appears in his hazy vision. They have four arms and a long, golden brown tail, gilded with a smattering of freckles that reflect in the light like the bottom of a river untouched for centuries, and then, those six frightening, beautiful eyes, staring right into Kravitz’s soul, blinking asymmetrically, and twice. A nictitating membrane. Bafflingly cool. Kravitz tries to sit up and his head protests dramatically, and the figure swears--in English.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, what am I going to- how am I going to explain this- shit, shit, shit- Don’t do that, lay down, stupid adorable creature...” Two of those four hands gently press on his chest and he lays back down, mouth hanging open.

“Who are you?” he asks, even though he could have opened with any number of questions, perhaps namely what do you want with me?

“Oh, fuck, is my translator working? That’s a bonus. Oh, ancient skies, what a fucking mess...I can’t believe I- I’m going to be in so much trouble-”

“Because I saw you?”

“Well- yes, and also because I stunned you, and brought you aboard, which, believe it or not, has exacerbated- that’s a weird word, why is your language like this?--It’s made shit so much worse, because I’m dumb as hell and twice as fired. If not executed.”

“Can I look around?”

“Babe, your listening comprehension isn’t great, is it? I’m gonna be in so much trouble for you even catching a glimpse of this- motherfucker, I should have stuck to cows, cows are classic, can’t go wrong with cows-” The alien, because, that’s- this person has to be an alien, there’s no other way, the set is too expensive and complete, the technology glittering at the edge of his vision is too complex, the makeup team would have to be intense?? The alien wrings two of their hands, and then the other two, fidgeting nervously. They pick grass off of Kravitz in a way that’s almost affectionate, and Kravitz has a hard time compiling all the facts, here.

“What’s your name?”

“Taako,” Taako says, absolutely miserable. “But you shouldn’t know that. I should put you back--or kill you--but I don’t know if I can, I mean, look at you! Four little limbs and two little eyes! And you’re so curious and...cute.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Kravitz can’t help it. He’s always wanted to kiss an alien, and, presented with the road to that opportunity, he finds himself taking it with no hesitation. “What can I do to get you to not kill me today?”

“I could wipe your memory, I guess...”

"Not ideal."

"Not ideal, no, it does sort of tangle all your business up there a little." Taako frowns, which is a very strange thing to see a person with six eyes do. His lips are purple and they look...incredibly kissable, even drawn up in a frustrated little bow. Kravitz had probably better focused on not getting lobotomized, but he's as gay as he is a nerd, so he always would have been fucked in a situation like this.

"Maybe, uh, maybe," he says, casting about for a solution, any solution. "Um, what, why are you here? What's going on with the, the cows?"

"Well, we're studying your planet, obviously?" Taako walks away from Kravitz, pacing anxiously, and Kravitz takes the chance to sit up. It makes his mouth go dry and his head even more cottony, but he blinks blearily at Taako and smiles a little. "We're trying to learn how things work, how your society works, you know, see if you guys can handle the real shit, see if- You've got these incredible bonds, and I mean, my home sort of has those, but it's not the same, and- it would be real powerful if we could bring that kind of thing home."

"Guess you're not finding those bonds in cows, huh?" Kravitz has his out, and it's a good one. He can't stop grinning. He hopes Taako doesn't think it's a threat display. "Well, if I promise not to tell anyone about you, and you promise not to tell anyone about me, I could tell you some hot Earth facts, anything you want to know?"

Taako bites his lip, folding both pairs of arms and pausing his pacing, and he looks at Kravitz, incredibly tempted.

"Anything?"

"Anything. And if I don't know it, I'll look it up." Kravitz holds up his phone, and the reflection of it glints in Taako’s huge, hungry eyes. He grabs it and turns it on.

"Oh this is good, this is very, very good. But-"

"But you wanted to know about bonds, right?"

"Right. And I promise I'm not trying to pry, but you keep thinking about kissing? And I want to know what that is."

Kravitz swallow hard, knocked on his ass twofold. Taako can read his thoughts? Taako wants to kiss him???

"I can show you how, if you want," Kravitz says, embarrassed but also thrilled beyond all recognition. "Unless you think you're, you know, poisonous to me, or something-"

"It's probably fine?"

"It's probably fine!!"

Taako walks over to him, tail flicking anxiously behind him. He's beautiful. Kravitz has finally met an alien, and he's beautiful.

"We just- with our mouths?"

"Exactly, just. Do what feels right."

"Okay, I can, I can do that. And nobody is going to know, nobody will find out, it's fine-"

Kravitz kisses him and Taako kisses back, sloppy and awkward and wonderful and Kravitz grabs the lapels of his uniform and pulls him closer and Taako makes a happy little trill and all six of his eyes flutter closed.

They pull back to breathe, Taako panting a little, and he looks at Kravitz and nods.

"I'm not going to kill you. Or. Scramble you, or whatever."

"Nice," Kravitz says, grinning like an absolute idiot. "Can I tell you all the cool things I know about Earth?"

"Maybe one more kiss. Or five. Can I have ten? Ten seems like a good number. Fuck, this is way better than cows!"

"I should hope so!" Kravitz laughs.

#taakitz #taz #tazb #taz balance #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #fan5fics #long post #this is silly #i hope u love it

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