#also i've never understood why she just fades away in turn left????

[divinesayer]

a longing that i've never known

series: yugioh 5ds ship: divine/jack atlas characters: divine, jack atlas notes: @ygoadvent day 13: like the movies. this is a nightmare before christmas au. i am posting this while dressed up ready for my work christmas party looool

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The smile hadn’t climbed far enough to his eyes, and he didn’t need his fangirls to click that the Pumpkin King himself, Jack Atlas, was fucking miserable.

Halloween had gone by smoothly, without a single hitch. It was the same as every year that Jack could remember. The women of the town absolutely adored him for his performances, and it took everything in him to avoid being grabbed and dragged down into it. The smile hadn’t climbed far enough to his eyes, and he didn’t need his fangirls to click that the Pumpkin King himself, Jack Atlas, was fucking miserable.

Thank God for Mayor Fudo, reminding everyone that there was a task left before Halloween was over for another year. The prizes began to be reeled off and he knew this was his only chance. The prizes began to be reeled off ��� the vampires, Kiryu and Antinomy, won something for their blood-sucking abilities. The rest of the awards faded into nothingness as he snuck away.

He paused only when the saxophone’s haunting song grew louder. Tossing a coin in Kazama’s case, he nodded.

“Nice work, bone daddy,” The man was smirking, glancing down at the coin – it would likely feed him for days if used right.

Jack didn’t bother to smile back, instead just waving the idea off with a flick of his wrist. “Yeah.”

Divine wasn’t supposed to be out – Godwin would kill her if (or, rather, when) he found out she had snuck out. But how was she supposed to stay locked up in there? It was Halloween, for goodness’ sake. Besides, Jack was a wonder, a marvel to watch as he sprang forth. If she had a heart, she thought it would flutter. Instead, the cotton inside of her remained far too still.

A metal arm grabbed onto hers, and she turned around, eyes wide. “Doctor Godwin?” She bit her lip; this was what she had been anticipating, but it had come a lot earlier in the evening than she had hoped.

“Deadly nightshade? Really? Do you think I’m stupid, Divine?” He spat the words out, and she physically grimaced, pulling away with him instinctively. If she was made to be his life partner, she had really failed at her task.

“Let me go!” There was no point in pretending she hadn’t just tried to poison him. His grip tightened, and Divine had to think fast before she was dragged back into the prison that he called home.

She tugged at the stitching on her arm, and it soon fell free, allowing her to scramble and run off. Godwin had fallen backwards, and she could hear her abandoned arm smacking him on the head.

The graveyard was the only place that Jack knew he would get solace. The ghosts here were quieter than anywhere else – they much preferred to be left to their own devices. Jack understood how he felt, or at least he thought he did. He also wished for the world to leave him alone.

He stepped carefully, not wanting to disturb them. They didn’t mind when people spoke, at least, and his still chest cavity was bursting with words that he was afraid to say when anyone could hear him. “There must be something out there better than this.” It tasted strange, and if he had thought it even a few weeks ago, he imagined he would have retched over it. “I shouldn’t be tired of it all but… I’d give this stupid crown up if anyone would take it.”

He sighed, resting against one of the graves that littered the pathway. “I’m the best at what I do, but… Why do I still feel empty?” He glanced up at the gargoyle as if it would answer, but the stone remained motionless.

There wasn’t anything that it could say to help, anyway. This was what he was made for, after all. If Jack was honest, he didn’t know how or when he had been given the title of Pumpkin King – centuries ago, he imagined. Whenever it was, the memory had lapsed into a blur.

“Nobody else could do this job.” He spoke plainly, as if to convince him that he had to stay put. He couldn’t run away from his responsibilities, even if next Halloween was 365 days away. There was so much preparation that went into the celebrations, and naturally, he was at the forefront of it all.

…Maybe one late night wouldn’t hurt anyone. The clock was ticking towards November, but the endless routine was beginning to make Jack feel insane. He rose from his spot, gracefully stepping over the pumpkin patch as he made a beeline for the forest.

It was singing to him in hushed tones; he couldn’t explain it. It wasn’t like anyone in the town would understand, but maybe whatever lingered beyond the treelines would.

He hadn’t noticed anyone watching him from behind a grave. It had been the only place that Divine thought Godwin would avoid checking – he hated the graveyard, and she wasn’t sure why. She had come here for more of her... flavour enhancers, shoving thistles into the pockets of her ragdoll dress.

Jack’s voice had her peering round, watching him with a frown. If he was rebelling against fate itself, she understood. Nothing felt worse to her than playing the role she had been forced into. She sighed, squeezing ivy in her hands. “Oh, Jack… I understand.”

[ambertea]

Three weeks time. But you've got to be certain. 

[silentprincess17]

Congrats on the 200!!! How about some Oot Zelink being adorable messes?

Thank you for sending in this prompt @linktheacehero! My first foray into OoT Zelink! I've always imagined this pair as the tragic Zelink, so in order for them to be adorable messes I had to pull poor Link through the ringer first. I also took a slightly... more liberal definition of mess. I hope you enjoy it - I had a really good time writing it!

A big thank you to @braidy-maidy, @zeldaelmo, @zeldadiarist and @nooneshome12​ for betaing this for me! Best mates :) 

The rest of the fic is below, or on AO3

A painting for our memories

Link set the one-inch brush he’d used to blend the mist around the trees aside, and reached for his fan brush. It was time for the final touches of grass in the foreground, just in front of the trees… He dipped into the emerald-tinted paint he’d made first, to set the base colour of the grass, before washing his brush and adding a few strokes of the darker pine to create the shadows, and finally mixed up some yellow with a tint of blue for the lightest highlight, reserved only for the centre of the piece, where the light source was.

Or well… Technically, it was in the middle of the Lost Woods and the Goddesses knew there was very limited light in that setting… especially for the scene he was painting, anyway.

No, his light source was Zelda. As she was before he’d left, embarking on that quest to find Navi. That’s what he’d said, sure. In reality, he was as lost as the woods in which he’d wandered. He didn’t have a quest. He didn’t have an aim. He didn’t have a goal. He didn’t… he couldn’t save his princess, stuck as he was in a different timeline. And so he’d left. In an attempt to find some semblance of who he was.

She stood in the centre, faceless because he didn’t dare attempt to recreate perfection, holding the Ocarina of Time.

It was the memory he’d held onto as he repeated those three days countless times. Each time watching all he had achieved disintegrate and fade away. A memory of what once was. A memory of what could have been. In all of that, the one concrete memory he had, unflinching, that hadn’t changed, was that of leaving her behind. And a hope that he could, if he had the courage, see her again.

Turns out he didn’t have to. She was there on the day he found his way back to that same spot in the Lost Woods. She came there every few months. Just to check if anyone had seen him. And to check for herself that there had been no disturbance in the forest itself. He was glad she was the one to find him. He still wasn’t sure he could have ever accumulated the courage needed to face her again after it all.

What happened in Termina had made him realise something essential: life was temporary. Memories were fleeting. Legends were sometimes erased.

What could he do if everything he did was forgotten anyway?

It was better to accept that he’d done all he could and if he faded into obscurity then that was how it would be. For, if the passage of time meant everything turned to dust, then who was he to demand otherwise?

And yet, he’d underestimated Zelda. As a child, he’d told her the brief, bare bones of his quest so that they could stop Ganondorf in time. As a child, he’d explained, halting why he had been sent back. And as he spent more time with her, he dropped bits and pieces, such as his fonder memories of the sword and it’s beauty as a weapon, along the way, but never the whole thing. Never anything deeper than the superficial. Not when he knew she didn’t remember.

Why would he scar her with memories of a life she would never live?

And yet… she knew more than she let on, back then. Understood through the veils of secrecy what he was hiding.

He’d underestimated her, the perception she had. He’d also underestimate the lengths she would go to. It was stupid of him, but he realised upon returning, she was still the same as the one he’d be forced to leave.

She was still the same person, still the possessor of the Triforce of Wisdom, still the Sage of Time, even if she herself had no memories of it.

She guided him back to the castle the afternoon he’d arrived back in Hyrule, gave him a home, a position as a Knight and then, late in the evening, once he’d processed it all she came holding a lantern and dressed in her evening silks. She confessed, then, that she remembered what he’d gone through. She’d visited the Master Sword, sealed in the Temple of Time once he’d left, once Ganondorf was safely secured.

He was shocked, initially, that she’d braved such a thing. Wouldn’t that have opened the seal? But she’d risked it anyway, for she never meant to pull the blade… no, she simply wanted to touch it. She’d first found the spiritual stones (he wondered what she’d done with Ruto), unlocked the door, and laid her young hands on the blade. And of course, it wouldn’t deny the descendent of its creator. And so she found the secrets that he’d kept sequestered to his chest—found out everything that had happened.

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t started to cry in her arms, as she apologised for not remembering, and for not being there when he needed her the most.

And he apologised for never giving her a chance.

They were seventeen then. And so much had happened since-

“Link? Are you alright? You’ve been staring into space for a while… something not working with your painting?”

He jolted out of reminiscence, as his wife walked up to him, and pressed her chin on top of his head. “Ah… I see.” He leant back a little into her arms, and she planted a kiss in his hair, “Today is the anniversary of your return back to Hyrule. A fitting painting then.”

He nodded. Zelda was the one that encouraged him to paint his memories. It helped to solidify that they were real events that had actually occurred. And it felt good, to capture what was in his mind down onto something concrete. Something that wasn’t as frail as a memory.

She pulled up a stool and sat down next to him. He’d be lying if he didn’t spend a few seconds admiring the slightly lower cut on the back of her dress today. “You know, Link. I always remember in the forest that day there were gladiolus and zinnia growing.”

He hesitated… hang on. That was familiar. “Wait, those two featured in your bouquet when we married right?”

A small smile graced her lips. “Yes. I… I spent a lot of time in the Lost Woods, Link. I grew to like those flowers. And one day, I brought a wildflower identification and meaning book with me to finally understand what they were. Gladiolus represents remembrance, faithfulness and sincerity, whilst Zinnia meant lasting affection, daily remembrance and good memories. I thought that was very apt for me and you. They gave me hope…”

He slipped his fingers under hers and gently tugged her into his lap. “That’s beautiful Zelda. I’m a little miffed I never asked.”

Laughing, she twisted so she was now facing his paints and he readjusted to secure his arms around her waist. She gripped one of his paint brushes and took to mixing a little bit of red, yellow and white together. “We should add some to your painting…” and with that, she handed him the brush.

But he was looking at her back. He pressed a kiss to the skin there. “I have a better idea.”

“Hm?”

“You are my hope, Zelda. You gave me everlasting affection, sincerity, and so many good memories. And, well. You’re wearing the perfect dress for this.”

A raised eyebrow alongside blushing cheeks greeted him. “He fiddled with the brush, angling it between her shoulder blades. “I want to paint on you, my wife.”

At that she raised the other and laughed at him. “Link, you… oh you really are serious. Well, I am intrigued to see you try. But, on one condition, I’d like to see your process.”

“Done. Let’s get you comfy first.”

Some rearranging later, with several pillows around her whilst she sat up, and a mirror positioned across so she could see, as well as the book Zelda has used so he had a reference for the flowers, Link set down his pallet, and began to paint the background. It would be a sunrise, he decided. That felt symbolic enough. New memories founded on the surface of the person he’d never thought he’d get back.

Dark blue around the edges faded to a lighter indigo, paler pink, orange and yellow at the centre. He based it in Hyrule Field, and did a vague brown trapezium in the distance, roughly shaded with some burnt crimson and coarse flecks of paint, to symbolise Death Mountain and it’s spew of ash in the distance.

Up front, he started with grass, and vaguely outlined where a hill would be for some variation in the landscape.

“You’re being very methodological. I’d have thought you wouldn’t have done it properly considering it’ll peel off.”

How would he even begin to explain what his convoluted thought process was? So he simplified it, because it was truth enough still. “Only the best for you, Zelda.”

And now, onto the flowers themselves. He decided he would have one large one in the foreground on the right. In the distance beyond that he’d outline Zelda and himself. Maybe with Epona. The rest of the field would be populated with smaller versions of the flowers, and then… and then he’d add in falling petals all around.

He worked for two hours, finessing the details. And at the end, he leant back, much like he had earlier.

Zelda’s voice was a whisper that broke the silence that had fallen between them. “Link… it's gorgeous. Thank you.”

A small smile blossomed on his face. “You're welcome.”

“Darling, can you look at the last page of the book, for me?”

Confused, but never one to deny his wife, not after all the stupidity he’d pulled when he was younger, he angled the book, careful not to smear his colourful fingertips across the delicate pages.

It was a simple passage, only a line, with a picture of falling petals much like what he’d painted. “The infinite falling petals represent endless love…”

“No matter what time does, Link, no matter how twisted and convoluted it gets… it’ll never win this war. For our love is guaranteed to succeed.”

He kissed her then, red smearing with yellow on her cheek as he touched her. What a beautiful reassurance to know theirs was an everlasting love.

[mimisempai]

True love cannot be concealed

Summary:

5 times where people discover that Loki and Mobius are together and once where nobody is fooled.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32309122

2182 words - Rating G

1.

Miss minutes was heading towards her monitor, after a little night tour in the TVA complex. She found herself in a hallway she hadn't been in for some time, as it was the TVA's senior members' apartments. It was dark and silent.

A sudden noise startled her, so she slipped into the next hallway and looked around. She heard muffled voices but saw no one. Miss Minutes had always been curious. After all, people couldn't do much to her, and besides, she was small so she wasn't noticed. She walked down the hallway, closer to the voices and then stopped in front of a door when she recognized one of the voices. It was the voice of their new supervisor.

"Stop that right now!" Mobius murmured sharply.

Miss minutes wondered who he could be talking to like that in the middle of the night. She also knew that if there was one person who would absolutely not appreciate her eavesdropping, it was Mobius.

Then she recognized the second voice.

"I don't think you really want this, Mobius..." whispered Loki. Though Miss Minutes was slightly shocked at this point, she continued to listen.

"Loki, not here...." then Mobius' voice faded away and there was silence. Miss minutes wondered if she should leave or stay. But curiosity was the strongest and she wanted to see. So she slowly passed her little body through the opening of the door.

Luckily she was not made of flesh and blood, because she would have fainted.

Mobius was standing on the other side of the room, with his back against the wall, and Loki right in front of him, holding him by the wrists. Which would be a strange enough image, but that's not all. They were kissing and as far as she could tell, they were kissing passionately.

Loki and Mobius! Come to think of it, she should have known better, all those looks, brushes, gentle banter, all those clues were evidence of what was going on between the two men.

Seeing that things were heating up, she stepped back on the tips of her little feet and quickly headed back to her first destination.

2.

It was the first Christmas after the TVA's restructuring and Carol, ex-Hunter C-20, was taking advantage of the calm in the hallways to take a little walk before returning to her apartment when she heard Mobius' voice.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Then she heard a second voice that belonged to none other than Loki

"I could ask you the same thing.''

After a pause, he continued, "You're not hiding from me, are you?".

Carol found there was a strange undertone in Loki's voice, as if he wanted to taunt Mobius, and it was very strange.

Loki seemed to have an extremely high respect for Mobius, so why would he talk to him like that?

"Don't be ridiculous, why would I hide from you, Loki?" replied Mobius gently.

"Oh, maybe you weren't hiding from me specifically. But there's quite a bit of mistletoe everywhere. So I wonder if that's what you were worried about." said Loki openly, teasing.

"You wouldn't dare Loki, right?"

There was no answer to the question and the silence seemed to drag on.

Carol waited a few seconds before glancing behind the wall.

It was rather dark, but she could clearly see the two men, pressed against each other.

Loki was holding his hand up. In the palm of his hand was a branch of mistletoe with green wisps around it, typical of his magic, and they were close, so close, pressing against each other, then Loki bent his head and…

Refusing to watch more, Carol went back the other way.

Although she had a huge urge to share this secret with her friends, she knew she wouldn't. The secret was not hers, and when Loki and Mobius were ready to share it, they would. But the idea of this unexpected couple warmed her heart. After all, seeing friends happy together was a great Christmas present.

3.

For Casey, the restructuring of the TVA had been a little difficult, because he had to take in a lot of new information. Intensive courses were held and he wanted to take them all to catch up.Between his classes and his work at the TVA he was overloaded with work and he wanted to take advantage of his break to go and rest in a quiet place.

He walked along a few hallways to a restroom that he knew was unoccupied at that time of day. Just as he turned the corner he heard voices behind the door.He was about to leave when he heard the familiar voice of Mobius

"Are you sure about this, Loki?"

"What, are you trying to talk me out of it? "

Casey was about to open the door, happy to spend a moment with his favorite people from the TVA. His first friends whom he respected immensely.

However Mobius spoke again and Casey didn't want to intrude on what seemed to be a private conversation after all.

"Of course not, but I don't want to be something you regret tomorrow morning or in a few days."

"I will never regret you Mobius, never."

He didn't mean to pry, he really didn't, but the conversation had stopped a good 20 seconds ago, and Casey was too curious for his well-being.

So he discreetly slipped his head through the door, just enough to see if everything was okay.

But he soon realized that everything was perfectly fine, and above all he understood the reason for this prolonged silence.

Both Loki and Mobius had their lips occupied with... other activities than making conversation for once.

Casey couldn't suppress a smile, because Casey was always happy to see people they liked happy.

4.

HB aka ex-HB summoned a Timedoor to return from a mission.  It was a door that led directly into the office of Mobius who had taken Ravonna's position.

She went through the door and found herself in her former boss' office, which had changed a lot and was much less solemn.HB liked what Mobius had done with it. Especially the three imposing statues of the time keepers were gone.

The door that opened suddenly startled her, and by reflex, she backed up behind a bookcase.

Mobius and Loki were talking animatedly while entering the office, Mobius took his place behind his desk while Loki sat unceremoniously on his lap.

HB struggled to hold back a surprised gasp.

"Loki, not in my office, we've been over this."

Despite Mobius' protest, the way he tightened his arms around Loki's waist left no doubt that he was enjoying the situation very much.

"Just a minute, it's been at least three hours since I've seen you, and even longer since we've been alone together. Just a kiss and I'll be on my way."

Loki made a pout that Mobius was clearly unable to resist which didn't surprise HB, Loki had Mobius wrapped around his little finger since the first day they met.

"Loki, you know we're not going to stop at this."

"I can't help it if you're irresistible..."

"But this time we can't, in five minutes HB is supposed to be back from a mission, to make her mission briefing."

"What, you and HB alone in this office, like you and me?"

HB hardly restrained her laughter.

"Very funny, really. As much as I like HB you know very well that I only love you. "

This time HB hardly held back her gagging. Too much sap.

Loki made another pout which Mobius quickly wiped away with his lips before pushing him away.

"Come on, go to work now!"

Loki laughed as he headed for the door, then turned and blew a kiss, literally. There were two small green lips that flew towards Mobius and then placed a smacking kiss on his cheek.

"You don't know what you're missing! " Loki said as he closed the door behind him.

Mobius smiled fondly as he leaned back in his chair, "How about you tell me about your mission, HB?"

5.

Sylvie was tired. She hadn't been home in over 72 hours and if she took more than ten steps without sleeping, she would fall to the ground. All she wanted to do was take a little nap to recharge her batteries.

She headed to the small break room where there were a few cots that were quite comfortable for the little nap she wanted to take.  Unfortunately, she didn't go any further than the door, because as soon as she opened it, she saw Mobius and Loki sitting on one of the beds, very close, with their backs to her.

They had a conversation in low voice, which seemed very animated and that Sylvie did not manage to understand. She was torn between the idea of interrupting what was going on between them and looking for another place. On one hand, she didn't want to bother them, but on the other hand her mischievous side and her desire to rest were very strong.

Maybe she could just sit on one of the beds and they wouldn't notice her, she was so tired she was sure she would be able to fall asleep even if the two men started yelling. She was about to put this plan into action when Loki put his arm around Mobius and pulled him against his chest.

She had to go now, she couldn't stay.

The next few seconds passed in slow motion. Sylvie took a step back as Loki turned his head to place a kiss on Mobius' hair, and looked into her eyes.  She saw his eyes widen and his body stiffen, causing Mobius to turn around to see what could have caused such a reaction in his companion.

Mobius said simply, "I know I'm not the kind of companion you were hoping for Loki, but get used to it, you'll be seeing more of this kind of situation in the future. Loki and I are together."

Sylvie answered simply, surrendering, "I basically just wanted a bed to sleep in, what you two do is none of my business." She was too tired to say anything more.

"Are you coming, Loki?" Mobius had walked over to the door and was holding out his hand to Loki.

Loki, looking baffled, hurried to join him. Mobius saw his face and said, "What? I never intended to hide. I'm proud to have you by my side."

Then they headed for the exit.

"You know I never had any expectations for Loki, but if I did, you would have met all the qualifications."

It was Mobius' turn to look baffled as Sylvie, ignoring them both, went to take a well-deserved rest.

+1

"Ah there you are Loki. I would like to see something with you about the upcoming mission."

"Morning Mobius, I'm glad to see you too."

"Hello Mobius!" echoed a chorus of voices.

Mobius rolled his eyes in greeting, "Ah, Casey, Sylvie, HB you are here too. Hello."

"And I'm here too," added Miss Minutes.

"Yes, yes hello to you too!"

"Yes," HB added with a chuckle, "apparently we work here too."

"You guys don't stand a chance, he only sees me," Loki replied cheekily.

"Getting back to the mission Loki, we should review the different parameters-" Mobius stopped in the middle of his sentence, licked his lip before resuming, "ahem, the different parameters." Then, leaning forward, he continued, so that only Loki could hear him.

"Don't look at me like that and then feign innocence."

"Don't you like it?" replied Loki, looking totally innocent before answering with equal brazenness, "It's your fault, please stop looking so kissable."

However, if Loki was the god of Malice, Mobius could sometimes be the master of it.

"First of all you know very well that the one who looks the most kissable of the two of us, it's you." murmured Mobius pointing at him before continuing, "and if you don't stop looking at my lips without doing anything about it, I will take you right here on your desk."

Loki suddenly stood up, and said in a louder voice.

"Very well Supervisor Mobius, I think we're going to have to do a little more work on the mission! In order not to disturb my dear colleagues, I suggest we do this in your office."

"I couldn't agree more, Agent Loki, plus the coffee is much better there."

Loki stood up quickly and they both headed for the door.

The way their heads were tilted towards each other, the way their arms and hands brushed against each other at every opportunity, the way they communicated with their eyes, all those little details, left no doubt about the nature of their relationship for those who knew them.

"I wonder if it will ever get old," HB asked as she watched them walk away.

"I don't think so," replied Sylvie.

"You are unfortunately right," added Miss Minutes.

Then, shaking their heads and smiling, they all got back to work.

_____

Whole series here : Together, for all time, always

Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

[themusicplayedherlife]

to love is the greatest gift

3. The Child

pairing: obi wan kenobi x f!reader (past!din djarin x reader | past!obi wan kenobi x satine kryze) characters: f!reader, din djarin, baby djarin obi wan kenobi, anakin skywalker-amidala others word count: 6k+ warnings: angst, fluff, death, longing, slow burn, guilt summary: au! It has never been the right timing for you and obi wan, but maybe this time will be different. a/n: so, this was planned and partly written before we knew grogu’s name, and there’s actually a reason why baby’s name is baby, but probably won’t come up lol — now we’re just upping the ante and I’m not sorry lol if you have any questions about this story or requests, send them my way and I will try my best to answer ☺️

Then.

The loud noises of the bar were swallowed alive by the cars that rushed by and the occasional helicopter that flew overhead—faint music thumping from all directions; neon lights so bright like artificial stars, fading headlights moving in all directions.

Pretty. Picturesque, but not what you focused on for too long.

You moved fast, hand pulsing with pricks of pain and refusing to listen to Obi Wan, who followed closely behind, pleading for you to stop and—will you listen to me? Your determination to get away from him, the bar, and find his stupid piece of junk car in the packed parking lot drove you forward. He already dragged you out, might as well leave altogether—if only Anakin and Padmé would hurry!

“What were you thinking?” he asked after you, voice thick with worry and indignation as he kept up with your quick pace.

“He was being an asshole!”

“So you decided to punch him?” He heaved a sigh, grabbing your wrist and keeping you from continuing (or from running away from his impending lecture). “A man twice your size?”

You jerked away from his hold, refusing to meet his gaze and find disappointed blue eyes staring back at you. “You didn’t hear what he was saying—”

“Oh, I heard perfectly, my dear, but I wasn’t about to engage with some drunkard.” He said it so dismissively and judgmentally that you recoiled, the anger you managed to release earlier coming back tenfold, but this time for a different reason. 

Why did he always have to be so non confrontational, so unlike Anakin and his hit-first-think-later personality? Why couldn’t he allow himself to get angry even for only a moment? Why did everyone else have to get angry for him? More importantly, why did you have to get angry for him? You don’t understand!

“How are you not mad then?” you outcried, throwing your hands up in the air. “He called you—”

“Why would I be?” He smiled, like he knew something you didn’t, and it only made you more frustrated. “I have you to defend my honor.”

“That's—Obi Wan! Seriously?” Maker, he was too much! “Take this seriously, will you?”

He chuckled and reached for your hand, the same one that had glocked the giant’s jaw. It hurt, a lot, much more than you were willing to admit, but in Obi Wan’s hands, the pain felt nonexistent. 

“I didn’t expect you to hit him.” You wished he looked at you, showed you what he was thinking. He squeezed your hand in his, inspecting it gently. “Could’ve gotten hurt.” He sighed again. “I wanted to—needed you safe.”

“I wasn’t going to let him get away with saying those things about you,” you murmured, the cold air harsh in your throat, hard to swallow, but his hand was warm—he was warm.

“I know.” He ran his thumb over the area, careful to not cause you more discomfort—always so careful and sweet with you. But there was something swimming in those eyes of his, a hint of something you couldn’t quite place as they followed the movements of his thumb. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your birthday,” you murmured.

“You could never.” He lifted your hand higher and you allowed him to—let his warm breath fan over your stinging skin. “My little warrior.”

Lips connected with your knuckles—soft, plush, delicate, and your breath hitched—he was never this bold with you, always keeping you at a certain distance for as long as you could remember—his darling, but never truly his.

“I am envious of the person you will choose to spend the rest of your life with,” he said, hesitant—barely breaking through the blood rushing in your ear—wanting to say more than what he was allowing himself to; hand dared to push back a stray piece of hair that couldn’t stay in place, choosing to dance with the wind. “Your future family will be lucky to have you.”

Now.

Din’s love can be powerful and kind. But he is also a man with too many layers and shields up to protect himself from the onslaught of cruelty life can gift to one human being.  

Someone once told you (joked really) that loving him was like the age old question of how many licks did it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop. It was a stupid analogy then and it’s still a stupid analogy now, but it didn’t make it any less fitting.

Anakin never understood your relationship with Din, seeing only the surface level of the man you were once in love with. Padmé saw beyond the gruff and tough exterior, but she grew worried that you’d expend too much of your love and energy to get to where he could finally return it with equalness.

And she was right.

Sometimes, it was too much, and the selfish part of you wanted to walk away many times; wanted to give up the patience that you had thought you’d nurtured and grown over the years. But you’d fought against that selfish part of you, stood strong and tall as you worked through all of his layers of armor. Loved him and his toddler that you saw as your own (because he was, he was much more yours than the mother that left him on Din’s doorstep a couple of years ago).

It was Din who gave in first, the struggle of having someone wanting to be part of his life, wanting to give their all to him was so foreign to the poor man that sometimes he didn’t know what to do other than fight against it—against your love. 

Even if he was the one to end it, there was no denying he had loved you, loved you in ways that were intimate, kind, and sweet. He made you feel things that no one else had, made your mind and body sing in ways that you sometimes search for in other partners.

Although the love you share now is different, like friends that have seen each other grow and blossom into who they are today, you don’t regret the time you spent learning and loving each other. He’s the first real, adult relationship you have ever had (and in a way you’re his first too), after all. You don’t regret any of it.

You don’t think he does, either.

“Are you sure you can watch Baby?” His fretting is still as cute as ever, worried that he’s asking too much of you. He knows Baby is yours as much as he is his, but his insecurities always get the best of him.

“Yes, yes!” You wave him away, too busy focusing on your little one with his chubby hands grabbing at your necklace. Maker, how you adore him. “I don’t have any meetings today”—thankfully—“I only have to go over the checklist for the Winter Charity Gala.” You finally spare him a glance as he hovers by the door. “Besides, people love babies, and if they don’t we could just switch guides or kick them out—either or, isn’t that right, my little womp rat?”

Baby giggles, slapping your chest gently in excitement, his little legs squeezing your middle as you balance him with one hand holding him and the other holding his leg. “Yes!”

He sighs heavily, muttering your name like he used to when you “sacrificed” nights to help him when Baby was teething and wouldn’t let him sleep. 

You roll your eyes affectionately. “Stop it, Din. It’s fine. My work is flexible and besides, I've been wanting to spend more time with Baby during the week, anyway.” 

His expression falls and his eyes fill with remorse, and stars are you a horrible person. You didn’t mean to make him feel bad!

“Din, I didn’t mean it like that.” You would never blame him for spending time with his son. The fact that he even lets you take him on weekends or even spend days with him during the week is such a huge thing. You’re not Baby’s mom, but Din lets you be his mom. “I just meant I love spending time with Baby.”

“I’m sorry,” he croaks.

“Don't be! You do more than enough,” you assure him, berating yourself for even making him think you don’t appreciate what he does for you. “You don’t need to let me spend time with Baby, but you do. You make sure I do.”

“Of course, I could do no less,” he says, soft and warm, like the blankie you and Din bought Baby when he turned one. “You are Baby’s buir. Blood or no blood.” He closes the distance between you and wraps his arm around you and Baby, pressing his forehead against yours. “We are family.”

You look up at him with glassy eyes, and he smiles down at you, kind and tenderly. His own eyes glassy and the area around his eyes red. “Family,” you repeat, heart bursting in your throat.

“Family!” Baby exclaims, making you and Din burst into wet laughter.

“That’s right, ad’ika,” Din says, rubbing Baby’s back. “Who am I?”

“Papa!”

“And who am I?”

“Mama!” It never gets old hearing him call you that.

“Our Baby is so smart,” you coo, kissing his chubby cheeks loudly, making him giggle and lean into you for more kisses that you’re willing to give. “So, so smart!”

There’s a knock on the door and Din moves just slightly to where you could see the door as you ask who it is.

“It’s, uh, Obi Wan.” Your breath hitches, the hold you have on Baby tightening slightly—I’ve missed you, my dear. I will see you soon; warmth on a cold night, hands brushing hair away from eyes and tears away—shit.

“Who?” 

Glancing at Din, you realize you haven’t told him about Obi Wan’s sudden return… visit… whatever this is, not two nights ago when you showed up at his apartment and asked if you could spend the night or yesterday morning when you woke up with puffy eyes and made them a breakfast too large for a family of three. 

His eyebrows furrow in question, trying to figure out who Obi Wan is on his own. He practically knows everyone you work with or are friends with except for Obi Wan, whose picture he has definitely seen and name he has definitely heard offhandedly from Anakin and the others but can’t quite place. 

“Come in, Obi.” It’s a slip of the tongue, an affectionate nickname that you can’t quite stop yourself from saying even in the presence of an ex-lover.

“Obi?” Din mouths.

You really owe him an explanation.

“I’m sorry about my sudden intrusion, darling. Anakin”—of course Anakin has something to do with this—“had hoped we could have lunch together. He’s sent me—” The door opens slowly and Obi Wan peers into the room, almost as if afraid to enter. And with good reason, when he sees Din and Baby his mouth falls slightly agape at the unexpected sight and he trails off. “Sorry, I didn’t know you had company, if I had known—”

“It’s fine, Obi Wan,” you interject softly, hiking Baby higher on your hip. He’s getting bigger and heavier now, harder to hold, but it doesn’t stop you from carrying your little one. “You’re not interrupting.”

“I was just leaving,” Din follows, glancing at you with intrigue and the silent question of—who is he? You exhale softly.

“Din, this is Obi Wan Kenobi, an… old friend of mine and Luke and Leia’s godfather.” Recognition flashes in his eyes. “Obi Wan, this is Din Djarin.”

“It is nice to finally meet you.” Din moves away from you to offer his hand to Obi Wan, who accepts it. “I have heard a lot about you.”

“As have I,” Obi Wan says, stern and firm, guarded and completely unlike the Obi Wan you once knew. 

Din raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything while you groan internally. What exactly has Anakin been feeding Obi Wan?

“What about Baby?” The little one in your arms squirms indignantly and you laugh, finding him looking at you with a scrunched up face, displeased that you haven’t introduced him, yet.

“I’m sorry, honey.” You nuzzle his little button nose with yours, closing some distance between you and Obi Wan. “Obi Wan, this is Baby Djarin, Din’s son.”

“Our,” Din corrects, shooting you a look.

“Right.” You bite your lip to hide your wide smile, ducking your head before nodding. “Our son.”

Obi Wan blinks, taken aback by the sudden information, and you don’t blame him. You’ll have to explain this situation to him, since apparently Anakin and Padmé chose to omit this part of your life from him, at a later date. (You ignore the fact that you have as well, but then again, you weren’t the one that kept in touch with him after he left the second time, and it’s not like you’ve had a chance to tell him since he got back either.)

He clears his throat and a smile settles on his lips, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It is a pleasure to meet you too, little one.”

Baby is absolutely delighted that Obi Wan is offering his hand, practically jumping out of your arms to shake his hand. Din quickly balances him and you by placing a hand in your back and another on Baby’s tummy.

“Careful,” he murmurs, which makes Baby pout and mutter, “No, thank you,” even though he’s straightening up. Chuckling, he ruffles his son’s curls. “I should get going.”

“Good luck,” you tell him, watching him lean down to kiss the top of Baby’s brown curls. “There’s no doubt you’ll get the job.”

He sighs, a corner of his lips lifting into an unsteady smile. He’s nervous. “I hope so.”

“Hey, you’re going to do great,” you assure him firmly. “You know all the ins and out, and have Cara and Greef vouching for you. You are more than qualified for this position.”

He cracks a small smile. “Yeah, you’re right.” He doesn’t sound super convinced, but he still manages to nod resolutely and picks up his sling bag, but then he pauses. “You sure this is fine?”

You roll your eyes again. “Yes, Din. It’s fine. Baby being here is no trouble at all. The team loves him.”

“Okay. Okay. Just—I’ll try to head back as soon as I’m done.”

“Take your time and don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

His head tilts slightly, but then he nods, finally relenting. Turning to Obi Wan, he says, “Again, it was nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” Obi Wan supplies back, it’s still tense and stern, but there’s something else too, something detached and unfocused.

Din doesn’t let it bother him, instead focusing on his son. “Bye, Baby.”

“Bye, Papa!”

“I’ll see you both later.”

“Yeah, yeah, go!” you urge. He shoots you a look and you laugh. “Go.” 

Din finally slips out the door but not without another kiss to Baby’s head.

“Son?” Obi Wan breaks his silence as you put Baby down.

He’s quick to run to his bag and pull out a blanket, handing it to you to place for him on the floor, in front of the blue, grey loveseat. Din and you always place it on top to make it easy to take out, and after seeing you and his dad do it so many times, Baby just knows his ground blanket is always on top.

“Yes.” You spread the blanket out, smoothing it, and Baby tries to help by grabbing the corners and tugging.

“How old is he?”

“Hey, Baby,” you faux whisper, “wanna tell Obi how old you are?”

Holding up four fingers in Obi Wan’s direction, he practically yells, “Thwee, almost four!”

Obi Wan chuckles, thoroughly amused at how excited Baby is to share his age and his inability to truly say the letter r. “Wow! You’re so big.”

“Yes,” Baby says, dropping himself onto his bottom once he’s satisfied with how you’ve laid out the blanket. “Very big!”

“He’s turning four in a month,” you inform him with a smile, sitting down next to your little one. “It’s why he’s starting to put up four fingers. Luke and Leia have been teaching him.”

“So Anakin and Padmé know?”

“Of course they do. Why wouldn’t they?”

His eyebrows furrow and he looks away from you for a moment. “They didn't mention it to me.”

“Oh.” Probably because Anakin didn’t think they’d be part of my life after Din and I broke up. But that’s not what you voice, instead you say, “I figured they hadn’t with how you reacted earlier.”

“Baby is from a previous relationship of his?” He wasn’t, not exactly, but Obi Wan doesn’t need to know what isn’t your information to give. “And you and Din are co-parenting?” He raises an eyebrow, a perfectly arched eyebrow, and it reminds you so much of the young Obi Wan Kenobi that you’d try so hard to impress with your ever growing knowledge.

You’re sure he doesn’t mean to sound like he’s being judgmental, but it sure as hell sounds like it when he stares at you like that—like he’s questioning your choices. You don’t like it. Never did.

“Baby was only a few months old when he came into our lives.”

“You have grown attached.” It isn’t a question, it’s a statement, a heavy loaded statement, one you don’t know if you even want to begin to decipher.

You sigh slowly and say, “Yes, Obi Wan. I am attached.” Baby slaps his hands on your thighs, grinning toothily, and you smooth his hair away from his wide, brown eyes. “How could I not be? We are family. Blood or no blood.”

“I see.” He wants to say more, you can tell by the way he speaks his words slowly, with restraint.

Something bubbles in your stomach, nothing pleasant. It's anger and frustration and this need to yell at him like when you were both younger and less mature. It only ever happened when he wasn’t listening to you, treating you like you had no idea what you were doing or saying. It was rare those moments, mostly born from lack of sleep from all-nighters focused on essays and exams, or sometimes born from nothing at all, just bad luck and circumstance.

It makes you want to push, just like then; to force him to tell you exactly what he wants to say. It’s never stopped him before, so why now? But Baby babbling in full sentences to himself while trying to pull his toys out of his bag reminds you that you are not that person anymore, haven’t been that person in such a long time. And maybe it’s for the best.

 “Wed truck?” Baby asks, showing off the newest toy in his collection, and when you place your hand out, thinking he wants to give it to you, he stands on his two little feet and walks over to Obi Wan, careful to not trip over the blanket. “Cheer up, pwease. Wed truck will help!”

Any hint of anger or frustration or hurt that may have remained, dissipates as Baby looks up at the standing man, his little hand holding onto his pant leg and the other holding up the truck. 

Obi Wan stares down at him, and that earlier aloofness, that stern way he regarded Din, and even you with, is gone, replaced by something tender, warm and soft. “Thank you, Baby,” he says, dropping to his eye level and gingerly taking the truck from chubby hands—the toy that seems so big in Baby’s hand completely swallowed by his larger one.

Baby lets out a pleased giggle and tilts his head, grabbing onto Obi Wan’s knees. “You're very welcome!” With a random smooch to Obi Wan’s nose, he moves away from him and makes his way over to you, grinning proudly.

Obi Wan stands, watching the little boy fondly as you ruffle his hair, giving him a wet kiss to his cheek that makes him laugh loudly. “You’re raising a wonderful boy, both you and Din.”

You pause your onslaught of kisses—Baby managing to slip away from your grasp—and you watch him closely, love filling your chest. “I like to believe we are.”

Baby moves to his bag and pulls out his learning tablet, immediately plopping down with it and opening up the case to pull up one of his many learning apps. It had taken you and Din a long time to finally give in and get him the darn thing, but Padmé had vouched for the item. Now Baby can’t have enough of it, always curious about everything and waving the thing in your face occasionally to ask you a question.

“I always knew your future family would be lucky,” he says, far away look in his eyes and smile barely lifted—there, just not wide. Your breath stutters. “You and Din make a lovely couple.”

Did he not know? Is this why he didn’t know about baby?

“Obi—” Your eyebrows furrow and you find yourself standing, tentatively reaching for his hand—and why do you feel like easing whatever turmoil he is in?—“Din and I… we care for eachother, deeply. He is my friend, the father of my child, but he and I—we haven’t been together in such a long time.”

“Maker.” He breathes in and out, squeezing your hand and lifting it to his face. “I have no right to be—I have been gone for too long, haven’t I?” He rests it against the slope of his cheek, nuzzling into your palm. “Missed out too much on your life. You’ve grown so much.” 

“So have you,” you whisper, allowing him to press kisses to your palm, wanting nothing more than to weave your hands into his hair. You repeat the words, because it’s true. You can see it in his tired eyes, how they don’t shine as they once used to—the lines that have appeared at the edge of his eyes and the beard he’s starting to grow out, keeping it nice and trim.

“Not as much as you think, my darling.” He chuckles, kissing your wrist one last time and just allowing your hand to cradle his cheek. “Appearance wise, maybe. But mentally…”

“That can’t be true. You wouldn’t be here if it were.” Even if it’s only for a couple of days.

“Perhaps.”

Baby giggles and you briefly glance at him. He’s perfectly content, mouthing words and sounding them out.

“If I,” Obi Wan starts, stealing your attention from your baby, “if I told you I wanted to stay, what would you say?”

Your throat swallows—dry, like sandpaper, eyes wide as they study him, searching for a semblance of uncertainty or lie in his words. Perhaps for a confirmation that this isn’t a cruel joke meant to tug at your heartstring and pull them apart until you’ve become undone. There is nothing in his clear, blue eyes that tells you it is. 

But you know that Obi Wan wouldn’t say something like this without it holding some truth.

He waits patiently for you, eyes searching yours just as intensely—but he’s worried, eyes wavering, unconfident.

This isn’t you. This isn’t him. This topsy-turvy, unstable relationship where you’re trying to figure out the other person, learn who they have become in the years lost without asking or finding a reason to talk. No, your relationship was always about comfort, knowing the other by watching and observing, of making the other feel safe—at home.

You know how to respond, “I would say: welcome home, Obi Wan Kenobi.”

“I’m home,” his voice hoarse and thick, “my little warrior.”

Your mouth falls open—the words, the question: “are you truly staying?” stuck in your throat and trying to form on your tongue, but you’re in disbelief. “Obi-Wan, what—”

A small arm slivers around your leg, and you stumble forward from the startle and momentum, knocking into Obi Wan. Strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you upright and steady against his chest. Your eyes lock onto blue ones in surprise and he mumbles a soft, “Hello, there.”

You huff under your breath, mumbling your own, “hello” and he smiles at the sound. Ignoring the flutter in your tummy and chest (blaming it on the stumble you almost took), you glance down to find Baby with an arm wrapped around Obi Wan’s leg and yours, hugging you both tightly. 

“Welcome home, Obi,” he exclaims when you both glance down.

Obi Wan laughs loud, head thrown back and hair falling over his eyes—your heart constricts at the sight. When was the last time you saw him laugh like this—not in pictures or videos but in person? 

Too long, your heart supplies in a broken whisper.

“Why thank you, little one.” He slowly untangles himself from you and crouches down in front of Baby, brushing his curls away from his face. “Would you like to see a magic trick?”

“Magic?” Baby claps, letting out an excited chirp of agreement, ready to be wowed by whatever Obi Wan was about to show him. “Yes, please!”

Warmth takes over you as you watch how gentle Obi Wan is with Baby, which doesn’t surprise you. But it hits differently when it’s your own child he’s being sweet to. Is this what it would’ve been like if he had given you both a chance? Kids of your own? Marriage?

Your phone rings, pulling you out of a spiral of thoughts you would rather not go down when he’s present. You thank the maker for the timely call and answer without a thought—“Anakin.”

“Where are you?”

You sigh, turning away from Obi Wan and Baby to focus on your shelves full of astronomy books. “I’m not coming to lunch.”

Baby squeals in delight and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as he grabs the quarter Obi Wan produced from thin air.

“Is that the little womp rat I hear?” You hummed in agreement, briefly explaining why Baby is with you and not his father. “That usually doesn’t stop you from coming out to lunch with me.”

Baby shows you the coin and you mouth an excited, “Woah, that’s amazing!” He laughs giddily and returns it to Obi Wan, asking him to do it again.

You briefly glance at Obi Wan and Baby and lock eyes with the former. You offer him a small smile before quickly turning away. “You have something to tell him, don’t you? You said you would.”

“I—I know.”

“Not so easy, is it?” you murmur, trying to make a joke out of it, but it falls flat, and you know it does when he sighs.

“I’ll do it. I will,” he affirms. “Rip it off like a bacta strip.”

“Ani, you don’t have to.”

He’s quiet for a moment and when he breaks it, his voice does too, “I owe him this much.”

This much. Clean—the air was too clean when there was blood and death and—stop!

You shake your head and your heart drops to your stomach. Stars. You should’ve figured this had nothing to do with Obi Wan but everything to do with Anakin. Maker, how stupid could you have been? You were so worried about you and Obi Wan that you neglected Anakin completely!

“Ani—“ your breath stutters.

“Darling?” You turn around, and Obi Wan stands only a few steps away from you, Baby sitting on his forearm as if weighed nothing—blue eyes watching you worriedly. “Everything all right?”

No.

“Yes.” You clear your throat. “I think Baby and I will be joining you for lunch, afterall.” Anakin says your name, and you cut him off. “We’ll meet you by the pendulum.” Anakin once more says your name, but you hang up on him.

“Shall we get going?” You meet Obi Wan’s gaze with a shaky smile, pushing your hair away from your face. 

There was never a dull moment when it was you, Padmé, and Obi Wan. Your headmistress used to call you and Padmé trouble, wondering how it was possible you two could influence each other so badly and still keep up with your grades—as if sneaking out and fooling around occasionally was so blasphemous.

Things only got livelier when you graduated and Anakin moved to Coruscant. Thankfully for your headmistress’ blood pressure, you were long gone, starting university and finally moving into the apartment your parents had promised you would be yours (and Anakin’s). Instead, you were giving Obi Wan headaches and Padmé heart palpitations.

Much to their dismay and your amusement.

“Remember when you punched the guy?”

“Don’t remind me!” You groan, clutching your hand. “My hand still hurts whenever I think of that night.”

“If I remember correctly, Anakin also punched him,” Obi Wan says pointedly in Anakin’s direction. “And that ultimately got us banned from the bar.”

“To be fair, he was asking for it.” Anakin shrugs. “I only finished the job she started.”

“Go!” Padmé yelled, louder and with much force than Anakin. 

“What?” You didn’t even get to finish the word as the large man you had punched emerged from the bar, blood caked to his face and eye swollen beyond belief—which you know for a fact you didn’t do. And he wasn’t alone; four other men with menacing mugs followed after him, heads whipping in different directions—until they landed in your direction.

Your eyes widened and your heart dropped to your stomach—that’s not good. “Kriff!” 

Without waiting for the others, Obi Wan took your hand in his and began to lead you away from the parking lot, ignoring your sudden yelp at being tugged in the opposite direction of where you were positive he parked his car. 

“What did you do, Anakin?” Obi Wan yelled back at the twenty year old, who looked far too amused by the situation than he should’ve been.

“Gave him a little taste of what he deserved!”

Padmé yelled something, voice drowned out by a motorcycle rushing by you, but it was followed by laughter so loud it overpowered the sounds of the ever alive city.

“What was it that Padme said while we were running?” you ask, trying to remember with narrowed eyes.

“That they couldn’t take us anywhere nice,” Anakin says with a shit eating grin.

You scoff, muttering, “That’s right,” while turning to Baby to make sure he was finishing his soup.

“And she was right.” Obi Wan shakes his head. “Having to pick up my car from the tow yard was a nightmare the next morning.”

“Hey! Padmé and I thought you two were already in the car.” Anakin gestures between you and Obi Wan. “I was kind of chancing on our getaway car being ready, but no, instead you two were just standing there in the middle of the parking lot.”

Lips connected with your knuckles—soft, plush, delicate and your breath hitched—he was never this bold with you, always keeping you at a certain distance for as long as you could remember—his darling, but never truly his.

The corners of your lips drop and you try to pick them up again as best as you can, hoping it doesn’t look like a grimace. It does. You know it does with how Obi Wan’s smile wavers and Anakin glances between you with a raised brow.

“Well,” Obi Wan starts, hoping to remove the uncomfortable veil that has fallen over you, “it’s a birthday I’ll never forget.”

“It was a good one, wasn’t it?” Anakin takes the bait, recalling that night fondly. “But nothing beats turning 18 and finally moving to Coruscant, for me.”

You laugh under your breath and Obi Wan chuckles, both sounding a little strained, but Anakin doesn't seem to notice. Probably for the best.

“All done,” Baby suddenly celebrates, raising his arms with glee in your direction.

“Good job, you little womp rat!” Anakin reaches for Baby and cleans his face with a napkin, your little one allowing him to do so, unlike when you try to do it. While Anakin might have some thoughts towards Din, there was no denying Baby holds a spot in Anakin’s soft heart.

“I’ll get the check,” Obi Wan offers, waving to get the attention of your waiter. You’re about to refute him, but Anakin nudges your shoe and shakes his head. Sighing softly, you close your mouth and watch him give up his card to the young man that had been serving your table.

“Thank you,” you whisper gratefully and he smiles at you.

“It’s my pleasure, darling.”

With your meal paid and Obi Wan’s card returned to him, you exit the restaurant with Baby holding your hand and walking, refusing to be held and carried to the trolley. It means you’ll be walking slower, but maybe this is exactly what you need to be able to tell Obi Wan—more time.

You and Anakin exchange looks and he gives you a little nod while you let out a sigh—it’s now or never. 

Rip it off like a bacta strip, little one.

“Obi Wan,” you start slowly, “there’s something we need to tell you.”

He pauses mid walk and steps aside to leave an area of the sidewalk free for people to walk by. It’s a busy day, even for a weekday, but it’s not surprising. The plaza and park near the Observatory are always busy on bright, sunny days.

“We’ve been—we’ve been having—” Anakin lets out a growl of annoyance, struggling to be able to form the words. His eyebrows scrunch up and he scowls, and you gently pull him back with a squeeze of his shoulder. He glances at you and you tilt your head to the side.

He sighs and steps aside, taking Baby from you and leading him over to the grassy field to distract him for a few minutes.

“Is everything all right?” There’s a hint of panic in Obi Wan’s words and you quickly nod to try and dispel it.

“Yes!” He’s taken aback by the volume of your voice and you soften your next words, “Everything is fine. There’s just something he’s—we’ve been wanting to tell you for quite some time.” Now that your hands are unoccupied, you wring them and keep your eyes leveled with his chest. “Every year, for the past few years, we—we’ve been visiting your father’s resting place,” you whisper, afraid of what speaking these words aloud might do to him. Last time you tried telling him, he shut down the idea before you could even bring it up completely. 

“I—I see,” he answers with trepidation, unsure.

“Everyone gets together to clean the area and replace the flowers we leave for him when we visit.”

“I—I appreciate it.”

“And when we’re done we go home and we—”

“You honor my father,” he says hoarsely, finishing it off for you.

“It’s what he wanted,” you murmur. And it was. He knows this. He was present when Qui Gon said so. “We would—we would like it if you joined us, Obi Wan. Everyone brings a dish and we have live music, and we share stories—”

“I—I see… and when is this happening?”

“The day before—”

“The day before he passed,” he once again finishes for you and you nod hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze, and although he’s already looking at you, his eyes are glazed over, not exactly focused on you.

“Obi—”

He takes a step back and clears his throat. “I’m sorry, darling. I—I need to go.”

Not again. Please, not again!

“Obi—” you try once more, reaching for his hand, but he jerks away and your hand falls, grasping the empty space between the two of you—again.

“Please tell Anakin I will speak to him soon.” He turns on his heels and swiftly walks away—shoulders tense and never once looking back.

“You must let go when the time comes, little one.”

Your shoulders sag, letting out a shaky breath as Anakin comes to a stop beside you. There’s no need to look at him to know he’s been hurt by Obi Wan’s reaction, because you have been too. But what is there to expect of a person who doesn’t want to let go of the dead?

Obi Wan was right, he hasn’t changed at all, and you were a fool to hope otherwise. 

“Let’s go,” you break the silence, taking Baby from him and placing Anakin’s hand—that hand—in yours, not missing the way it trembles in your hold.

Mando’a translations

Buir = parents/son/daughter

Ad’ika = my child

[addictofsupernatural]

Emotions (pt. 1)

Billy Hargrove x reader

Summary: Once Hopper lets y/n go to school, she catches the eye of a bad boy who isn't use to such kindness.

Word Count: 1729

Chapter 2 • Chapter Masterlist

When Hopper agreed to let you go to school, you were ecstatic. You came up with the idea to use yourself as a test run for this year to make sure it was safe for El to go to school next year. So there you were, happy as can be while being dropped off by Hopper's cop car.

You were known as the police chief's daughter. You came out of nowhere and nobody had ever seen you before, so everybody just came to the conclusion that you were adopted.

You didn't expect people to be the way they were. You were also perky and abnormal, and people at school took that as a sign to stay back.

You still had a smile on none the less. You were grateful to be living a life around people, and you understood why nobody talked to you. Normal people don't understand the abnormal, and they don't want to understand it. You couldn't really relate because you were never normal, but you understood.

Emotions were your specialty. One touch, and you could alter a person's emotions. Your name was five, but once you were flipping through a book of names called a phone book and came across the name y/n. You liked it, so it was yours now. You considered yourself lucky that you got to pick your own name. You have a name, a life, and a 'superpower', as Dustin put it. What wasn't there to be happy about?

Suddenly people were talking about the new kid. Apparently someone from California came to Hawkins and was going to school with you. You hadn't met him yet, but you figured that he was like the rest. People who make fun of you. But it's okay. You were still happy for the life you have, and weren't going to let anybody storm through your life.

It was a week into school, and Billy had girls begging to have him and guys begging to be him. He was the center of attention. But he's noticed a quiet girl lately, you. He sees you passing by hallways, sweet to people even when they don't respond back nicely.

You were considered a weirdo. You wore faded jeans with flannels and button up shirts too big for you. You were also very innocent and didn't seem to know basic things that was common to other teens. Even when people began to treat you bad, you were still nice, which caused people to consider you even weirder. It was alluring to watch for Billy, and something about it made him want to learn more.

He was hanging out in the hallways with his group of followers when he saw you walking by, books in your arms. You had a peaceful look on you as you kept your head low. "Who's that?" He asked.

The y/n girl?" One guy laughed. "Just a nobody. She's kind of a freak. Police chief's daughter. She was adopted a few months ago or something."

"I can't tell whether it's her last home or her new home being the reason for why she's so weird." A girl snickered.

That irritated Billy. Of course they they thought like that, what with their perfect little lives. It's easy for them to think like that with their silver spoons up their asses. He continued to watch you as some guy walked over to you, smacking the books out of your hands and pushing you forward, causing you to fall. If there was anything Billy hated more, it was people being physical with the innocent. He might treat his stepsister poorly himself, but he never touched her.

"Hey!" Billy said, stomping over to the guy, shoving him to the lockers. "The hell was that?!"

The guy looked freaked out and confused. "What Billy? Who cares, it's just some loser who thinks she's too good for anybody anyways."

Billy responded by shoving him back into the lockers and pinning him there. "You listen to me." His face became close with the other's. "You leave her alone. You don't talk to her, you don't disrespect her like that, and you damn well don't touch her. Got that?"

The boy only nodded, and Billy released him. He then ran off in the hallways. Billy looked around at everyone as they watched him. "Anyone got a problem with that?" He asked. Everybody then looked away, and he walked over and kneeled down while you picked up fallen papers. "You okay doll?"

You looked up at him with your doe eyes and smiled lightly. "I'm okay. Thank you for that."

He handed you some papers from the floor, and you got back up. "It's no problem for someone as cute as you."

You tilted your head to the side. "I'm cute?"

Billy wasn't expecting that. He decided to flirt a little. He took a step closer. "Very cute."

Your cheeks felt hot and a warm feeling in your chest came. You smiled and looked down. "No one's ever called me that before."

Something about you just felt so refreshing and light to Billy. He wasn't used to your innocence, but he sure could. "Well they should. C'mon, I'll walk you to your next class. Where are we going?"

You giggled slightly. "Um, biology. Ms. Laz."

He gave you a flirtatious smile. "Well, how about that? My schedule just got changed, and that's my next class. Are there any seats left for me in that class?"

You looked down bashfully. "Just the one next to me." Your voice became quieter.

"Well, lucky me."

You both got to the class when you stepped in front of him, preventing him from going inside. "I just wanted to let you know that what you did for me was very nice. You're a good person Billy, really." He didn't know how to respond to that. You didn't even know him, but you think he's a good person? Nobody's ever given him a compliment like that. And you knew his name? The bell rang before he could respond, and you went inside.

The teacher assigned Billy the seat next to you and told everybody to get started on the lab. You quietly worked with a content look on your face. "So," Billy said as he leaned towards you. "Chief of police's daughter. What's that like?"

You shrugged. "I don't judge Hopper by his job, I judge him by the type of person he is. He's a good guy. He snores really loudly and makes weird noices when he eats sometimes but he's a good guy."

You nodded your head contently as Billy chuckled. "Well don't you just look at the bright side of life, huh sweetheart?"

"Why shouldn't I? I can finally say that I have a home, and I have more than one pair of clothes. Of course I'm happy. People just don't like to see things the way I do, and that's why they don't like me."

Billy thought about your words. You only had one pair of clothes, and you never felt like you had a home? Billy still feels like he doesn't have a home, and he knows what that means, so something inside of him tells him that you didn't have a peachy life.

He didn't know how to respond sincerely, so he turned on his charm instead. "I like you. Does that mean that I'm not like other people?"

You shook your head. "Nope. You're better." You giggled at Billy's facial expression.

You began to inch closer to Billy, but glanced to your side and leaned back, going back to your work. "Something wrong doll?" Billy asked.

"It doesn't look like any of the girls are happy with me right now." He looked around at all the females in the room staring at the two of you. "They seem a little territorial of you.

"Well that'll be too bad when they find out I'm gonna sit with you at lunch." You looked up and grinned as he smiled at you.

The two of you sat on the indoor bleachers, neither of you with lunch. "What happened to your lunch?" Billy asked.

"Oh, um, these girls really wanted it, so they took it out of my bag when I wasn't looking." You said in an innocent way. It was like you didn't see the wrong in what happened. It seemed that you could read his mind, because you then said, "It's okay though. I cook dinner at home, so I know I'll get food then."

He felt bad, more bad that you accepted the bullying than the fact that it was happening. You then excitedly asked questions to him, and he talked to you about things he experienced in California. You were actually listening to him, giggling about how he was such a daredevil, and how you wish you could be able to do things like that.

Once the bell rang you told him what your sixth period was, and sure enough he was waiting by the door to walk you outside. "I've been meaning to ask," he said. "What's with your clothes?"

You frowned and looked down, suddenly feeling weird about them, though you didn't know why. "What about them?"

"There's nothing wrong with them babe, I think they look adorable on you, but are big flannels and baggy pants all you got?"

"Yup. I wear what Hopper gives me."

He stopped you as you both stepped outside. "Well sweetheart, we've gotta do something about that."

You titled your head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Me and you are gonna take a little road trip after school tomorrow, okay?"

Before you could ask where he was planning on taking you, a car honked in the front of the driveway, Hopper's hand out of the window with his cigarette as he honked his horn with the other. You looked back at Billy and smiled big. "Um, I gotta go. Can't wait though!" And with that you rushed off to the police car.

[yetanotherreader]

Useful—4

Genre: College AU

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Y/N Y/L/N, slight Dean x Lisa

Summary: The school’s most popular boy wants to be friends with Y/N, out of the blue. It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with her hot best friend, though.

Word Count (For the chapter): 2,627

Warnings (For the chapter): Language, self deprecative thoughts.

[For some reason, some of the tags aren’t working. I’m sorry about that.]

[[ Also I’m sorry for the no Read More thingy because it doesn’t happen on the phone app :-(]]

Useful Masterlist

Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Time flew by faster and in no time, it was the last week of the semester. Winter breaks were going to begin and you didn't know what to do with your life during the vacation. Lisa was going to be spending it with her family, Dean was going on a road trip with his friends and you had no plans whatsoever. You had no funds to go visit your family, overseas. You were saving for an apartment, and your parents understood. You were, in fact, surprised that they did without any clashes but again, maybe, living away from each other did mend your relationship with your family better. You missed them and, hopefully, they missed you too.

Right now, though, you were trying to figure out how you were going to survive the holidays, browsing the library for some books you could use for your time alone. Older times, you would have enjoyed it. Would get bored, might go into overthinking drives, beat yourself up for things of the past, but still somehow enjoyed the undisturbed two weeks. Now, it was different. Everything was. You were not used to being alone all the time anymore, there was a certain green eyed idiot who made sure to be around you as much as he could. The idiot you've started to dangerously feel for. He introduced you to Cas and Jo, and they were amazing people. Lisa had started spending time with you, too. It was funny. A few months ago, you had literally no one to talk to and now, you barely got to be alone.

"There you are! I've been looking for you."

"Well, I'm honored. Hey, Lis."

"Gotta say your sense of humor has worsened more," she said with a laugh, "Hey. So mom is going on a holiday with her fiancé for the new year. So had to cut the trip short. They invited me but I bailed out"

"I'm sorry," You knew Lisa and her mom's new boyfriend didn't get along all that well. The previous guy her mom was with, though, treated Lisa like her own, and she missed him. For some reason, they broke up and that was why Lisa  moved here for college from Michigan. Her mother's new fiance was a nice man, according to Lisa, but she just couldn't give him that place in her heart.

"Yeah. So, yeah, I'll be here a week earlier."

"That's cool. We can catch up on some movies then."

"And bars and parties and hot boys at the beach."

"Oh, Lord." You laughed, and she soon joined you.

"Hey Y/-" You heard Dean stop, abruptly before continuing, "H-Hey."

You looked up at him to see him looking at Lisa, only to realize it was her he actually greeted, "Um..hey, Dean."

He practically tore his gaze away from her to look at you, "Oh, hi, Y/N. You didn't tell me your friend was going to be here with you."

"Uh, you didn't tell me you were going to be coming here, Dean." You laughed awkwardly trying to cut the tension in the air.

"Oh, yeah, actually I was looking for you. Well, I was wondering if you-"

"Y/N, won't you introduce me to your friend?" Lisa chimed in, practically eye-fucking your best friend—and you hated to notice, it was coming right back at her.

"So, you don't know who I am, huh?" Dean smirked, flirting. You couldn't help but roll your eyes.

It was like you weren't even there while they continued to make filthy comments and it was disgusting, you audibly groaned making your way out of the library, "God, ew."

For the rest of the day, you were supposed to be busy. You had assignments to submit before the vacations started, but it seemed like you dropped your concentration somewhere on the road. You couldn't stop wondering what Lisa and Dean were doing right then. Did they kiss? Or were they planning somethi-

You shook your head, shaking away the thoughts. They were your friends, you should be happy for them if it came to something like that. What you felt for Dean was a tiny, little crush which would fade in no time. You weren't going to make things between you two awkward by acting on it. This friendship was important to you, after a long, long while you were willing to put your trust in someone. You didn't even remember the last time you ever talked to someone like you talked to Dean. He was starting to become the closest friend you'd ever had, so yeah, you were going to be happy for him no matter who he dated.

The only thing was...you weren't.

You typed furiously on the computer, trying to ignore the insecurities that were creeping inside you little by little. Dean is going to leave you too. No one will stay. Everyone leaves. Your fingers danced across the keyboard smoothly yet faster than before as you hurried to get the work done so that you could get the hell out of the premises and take a nap. Because you deserve it. You're not worth any love. You're a disgra- You typed the last words and emailed yourself the document, not bringing anything that was going on in your mind show on your face.

"Y/N!" You stopped at the familiar voice, turning around as Lisa made her way towards you, "Guess what?"

"What?" You asked, not surprised by her happy attitude. She was always so happy, it made you wonder what was wrong with you that you couldn't be.

"You never told me you were friends with that hot snack!"

"Um.. actually. I did." You said, rolling your eyes. Obviously she wasn't paying attention.

"No…" you gave her a long look, "you did?"

Exhaling heavily, you made your way to your room, "Lis, I've had a busy day. I'm really really exhausted. Can we gush over how hot Dean is later when I've had some shut eye?"

"No, I didn't stop you to tell how hot Dean is. I mean, yes he is but I wanted to tell you he invited me to the road trip he's going on with his friends." Your eyes shot up to her face, searching for any signs of it being a joke. It wasn't. Dean, actually, did ask her. They met...like...just now?

Lisa must have gotten an idea of your discomfort 'cause her eyes saucered in realization, "oh my god...I'm so sorry, Y/N! I completely forgot about you and the plans we made. I can drop going, I'm so sorry."

"No..it's..it's okay. Really. Go enjoy your holiday. I was, anyway, going to spend my time alone before we made those plans."

She looked at you, guilty, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah.." You smiled in understanding.

"I can always ask Dean to let you tag along."

You chuckled at the irony. You were his best friend, you didn't need anyone else to ask him anything for you. And you even felt a little insulted by the statement. You could do without this favour. You could definitely do without anyone 'letting you' tag along, "Braedon, really, go. I'll be fine on my own."

She went away without another word. The pit in your stomach only seemed to grow as you did your best to drag it aside. You, somehow, managed to stop the slumping of your shoulders as you walked into your room. You changed out of your jeans into your pajamas, ready to call it a day. You made yourself a peanut butter sandwich and was done with all the chores that you settled down on the bed. Switching off the lights, you pulled the warm blanket over your head. It was then that all the thoughts you'd been pushing aside started making appearances.

Your friend 'completely forgot' about you and the plans, your best friend didn't even bother remembering that he forgot about you. It was like you didn't even exist. You knew it was stupid, in fact it was really childish to think like this. Them people have gotten their own lives which DID NOT have to revolve around you. And pretty honestly, you knew no life revolved around you, not even your own. No one would give two shits if you suddenly disappeared, including you. Still, you weren't supposed to feel this way. You weren't supposed to be so much affected because of something like this. Being left out was not something that was happening for the first time to you. But this time, it hurt a little. The thought of you getting replaced bothered a little when it shouldn't. It wasn't a crime or anything. What did you ever do to make a lasting impact in someone's life anyway so that they'd want to keep you forever?

You woke up to constant pounding on your door. Groaning, you got up to open the door.

"I was about to knock the door down, sleepyhead." Dean ruffled your hair playfully as you slapped his hand away annoyed.

"I was sleeping, asshole."

"Shocker."

You looked at him, bored, for a while before widening your eyes and pulling him inside and locking the door behind, "What the hell are you doing here? If the warden saw you, she'd rip me two."

"For a second I thought you were going to kiss me," he snickered sheepishly. "I called you to inform, you didn't pick up." He made his way inside the room, putting the box of pizza and a backpack on the couch. You scrunched up your nose at the action.

"Pizza? Why?"

"Why are you surprised?"

"It was Tuesday. Did I sleep for three fuckin' days straight?!" You said, flabbergasted for a moment until you saw Dean making the most annoyed face ever.

"Y/L/N. It is still Tuesday. Wednesday, actually. And our Friday night outs are at my place, not here where your warden is ready to eat me alive."

"Your point?"

He sighed, "We didn't spend any time together today, Y/N. I saw you earlier, you didn't look well."

You frowned before the memories made their way back, "oh…

"Well that's exactly why I was trying to sleep, Winchester." You scolded, trying to not sound too cold.

"What is it?"

"What?" You turned away from him, walking to your bed, Dean following suit.

"What's wrong? And don't give me there's-nothing-wrong-i'm-okay shit. Tell me." He sat himself beside you as you crawled under the blanket to the other end.

"There's nothing wrong, I'm okay." Dean rolled his eyes as you pulled the covers over your head.

"You know I hate it when you do what I tell you not to."

"Then don't tell me what to do." Your voice came out muffled, as you replied back sharply. He sighed.

When she walked out of the library, groaning as Lisa and him flirted, Dean had noticed. He thought it was just the playful best friend reaction seeing them two flirt with each other, so he let it pass. Later that day, he went to meet Y/N and saw her working on the computer. She would look normal to anyone around there, but Dean had secretly picked up on her habit of doing her work extra smooth when she's stressed. Her shoulders were tensed and eyes sharp. Yep. She was definitely bothered. What he was about to tell her would have to wait, first he needed to know what was bothering her. He decided to talk to her after his class, but by the time his class was over, Y/N was already out of the campus.

"I never got to tell you why I came to talk to you this morning."

"Oh, you came to talk to me? Didn't think I was so lucky." Was that what it was all about? Was she... jealous? But why would she be jealous? She was so darn confusing, it frustrated him sometimes.

"You need to talk to me, Y/N. What's going on?" He said, pulling her blanket to him before she pulled it back.

"Nothing is going on Dean, really. It's nothing. I'm just tired is all."

"And grumpy?"

"And grumpy."

"I need you to know no one is going to take your place, sweetheart." He felt her stiffen just a bit, not enough to be noticed but enough to be noticed by him.

"Stop thinking you're that important to me, Winchester. You're not." He flinched. He knew Y/N didn't mean that, it was just her defence mechanism with some extra sass but it still painfully tug his heart a little bit. She made a lot such comments, mostly playfully, with that serious face but playfully. Maybe it wasn't the comment but the fact that she was hurt that was bothering him? He wouldn't know. One thing he knew, though, was whatever was bothering her, he needed to make her smile. Maybe she noticed his sudden pause because she immediately spoke up, "Sorry. It came out harsher than I intended."

"S'okay. So you're not gonna tell me what's bothering you?"

"Nothing is bothering me Winchester."

"Whatever you say, Y/L/N." He gave up. It bothered him that she had still not opened up to him even when they'd been 'best friends' for so long. Every time he thought she would, she would close off and change the topic. She still was the mystery girl he met at the beginning of the college, a mystery he didn't know how to figure out "So, you coming?"

"Where?"

"The road trip?

"So Lisa did that after all."

"Lisa did what?"

"Nothing. And well, I've got some work so I can't come."

"Yeah I know what work you got. Come on, Y/N. Be easy on yourself sometimes. It's gonna be fun."

"But-"

"Great. So it's a 2 weeks long trip. Pack accordingly and now we have that pizza." He stood up before she could protest and got the pizza.

"How many times are you going to watch this show, Dean? Don't you get bored?" You said taking your third slice.

"As many times as I please, babe. It's Dr. Sexy M.D, it never gets boring." He said casually, thankfully missing the pink that dusted your cheeks at the nickname in the dark.

After a couple more episodes, you were starting to doze off, and so was Dean, "Alright, let's sleep. We have classes tomorrow.

"There's no morning class. Just one more epi." He said, clutching the remote in his hands, like a child, "please?"

"No." He pouted at your response, defeated.

"Okie." He said letting out a small yawn. Sleepy Dean was always adorable, "So it's settled that you're coming with us?"

She paused for a moment before shrugging slightly.

"I guess...yes," he smiled cheekily as she said that, "but, why did you want me there all of a sudden?"

"Because I want you there? It's gonna be fun. I've heard girls need their girl-friends on these tours for some 'girl-company' thing. I invited Lisa, so-"

He stopped abruptly as she stood up and made her way out of the room, "I'll go and throw these boxes, you change in here."

"- that you could get some company." He whispered mostly to himself. What the hell just happened? He shook his head, too sleepy to think about it right now and stripped out of his clothes into his pajamas.

Obviously. There it was. The reason he wanted you there, it's all here. It's because he didn't want Lisa to be alone around people she didn't know. You stood by the sink and chuckled to yourself, feeling a sting in the back of your eyes. Wow.

"Same old easily replaceable Y/N." You whispered.

-------

Chapter 5

A/N: alright. I know I know. I'm a terrible author who do not care about her readers but it's not that. I'm really, genuinely sorry. Life's been really rollercoastery and I've been dealing with stuffs lately. I promise I'll be better next time. And if you could take out a minute of your day and pray for me and a lot of people who need it, please, I'll be really grateful. They say prayers are powerful and I think I can do with them a bit.

Also, please don't do something wrong with yourself. You're worth every effort you make for a better life. Each minute of your life counts, just make sure you keep yourself and others as happy as you can. Be kind to you and others, I'm rooting for you. ❤️

And show some kindness to the animals too, they deserve it. ❤️

.

.

Tags for useful:

 @fandoms-fiend @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @itsjaybro16 @mml232 @blablatiti @stilltoomuchafangirl @bat-shark-repellant @bluebell-24 @shortwinchester @always-money-in-the-banana-stand @ima-be-a-mongoose @soullessbabee @infinityspacesuniverse @vicmc624 @roonyxx @fandoms-fiend @slythermyg

[noire-pandora]

I’ve joined another writing event but this time on Twitter and this is my take on the first prompt “Campfire”, where Elluin and Varric have a heart-to-heart conversation about the burden of responsibility.  Also on my AO3.

Words: 2002

Warnings: none. 

A shiver rippled over Varric's skin at the sudden gust of cold wind, the dying small campfire failing to keep him warm. He sighed, wondering why he agreed to stay with the Inquisition, the long trips through woods, mountains and plains exhausting him. In moments like this, when the lack of comfort affected his morale, he wished he was back in Kirkwall with Hawke and her friends, enjoying a cold beer at the tavern and making up stories. Instead, he stood on a wood log, his butt still hurting from the long hours of riding, his stiff back begging him for a hot bath and a massage. His clothes weren't fit for the long days of travel, his cotton shirts and pants doing little to protect him against the capricious weather.

He huffed, shoving a stick in the fire, hoping it would bring it back to life, but he only succeeded in putting it off. "Great," he mumbled, crossing his arms before his chest, his warm breath fogging in the air. "I'll freeze until someone wakes up. Why is it so damn cold?"

He raised his eyes to watch the sky in an attempt to forget about the situation he found himself in, only to be greeted by the sight of the Breach, swirling and twisting above them like a silent threat, ready to swallow the whole world. Instead of making him feel better, the hair on the nape of his neck rose, and his muscles spasmed as if readying him to flee from a dangerous enemy before it got the change to attack him.

His lips slightly parted, his fingernails digging into the log as fear slowly crawled into his mind. How were they supposed to close it when none of them had any idea how it happened? When the only one who barely understood it was a suspicious elf who came out of nowhere, offering his help? The fate of the world stood on the shoulders of a few heretics who got dragged into this mess, with little to no support from the ones who should have dealt with it. His breath hitched in his throat at those thoughts, anxiety hovering above him.

The noise of the tent's flap opening startled him, and he almost jumped in place. He swiftly turned in the direction of the sound, curious to see who woke up this early in the morning.

The Herald left the tent yawning and scratching her wild curly hair. He frowned, noticing the unusual dark circles surrounding her eyes and the tiredness written on her face. Exhaustion shrouded her, and it slowly turned her from the laid back, always ready to joke elf to a snappy person, ready to fight at the slightest misunderstanding. This sudden change worried him, for it wasn't the first time he saw this transformation.

"Morning, Sparks," he greeted her with a broad smile on his face.  

She acknowledged his comment with a tilt of her head and continued her morning routine, stretching her arms and legs until her joints stopped popping. After a few more minutes of light exercises, she finally joined him, creasing her nose at the cold, half-burned wood. With a swift flick of her hand, the fire took shape again, dancing lively and consuming the wood in a few seconds.

"You don't need wood to keep it burning?" he asked, leaning forwards and outstretching his arms to warm his palms over the fire.

"No," she shrugged, flicking her wrist again, the fire blazing even brighter. She sat on a log next to him to warm herself. "I don't need any wood to sustain it. As long as I have mana, it will burn."

He hummed, cocking his eyebrow at her explanation. Magical explanations always confused him and brought even more questions to his mind.  In the end, it only mattered that the fire slowly warmed him, and the mage casting the spell was on his side.

"You're up early," he spoke as casually as he could after a few minutes of sitting in total silence.

She shrugged, wiggling her fingers, the campfire slithering in the rhythm of her hand movements. "Yeah. It happens."

"Been happening to you often. Are you getting enough sleep?"

She eyed him, pursing her lips into a thin line. "Are you monitoring my health? I thought Solas was supposed to do that."

He shuffled his legs uneasy, sensing the hint of annoyance in her voice. "Chuckles isn't the only one who's worried for you."

"Worried for me? Why?"

"You've been acting strange lately, randomly snapping at us. Just wondering if you're alright."

Her nostrils flared, and the fire suddenly sizzled, its flames growing bigger. He quickly pulled his arms back, raising an eyebrow at her. "See! This is what I mean."

"I'm sorry!" she apologised, squeezing her fingers into a fist and hiding them in the pockets of her trousers. "Are you all right?"

He waved his hand in dismissal, shaking his head at her. "It's fine. You didn't hurt me. But something's going on with you."

She ran one hand through her curls, a finger getting stuck into a hair knot. She yanked on it, her jaw tensing. With another yank, she released her finger only to clasp her hands in her lap. When she spoke again, he could hear the tension in her voice. "I haven't got enough sleep lately. "

"Nightmares?"

She nodded. "Yes. How did you know?"

He gave her a small, sad smile, stretching his hands again as the flames shrunk to a safe level. He stared at it, his eyes glassy with the memories of the past. "I've seen this look before, Sparks. You're not the only one hunted by nightmares. How bad is it?"

She stared into the fire, her eyebrows furrowed into a deep crease. "Bad. I've had them for almost two weeks. I barely get enough sleep to function at day."

He contemplated her face, noticing how the bags under her eyes turned purple, the whites of her eyes bloodshot and how her usually rose cheeks caught a sickly pallor, a few spider veins showing through the paleness of her cheek.

"I think Chuckles can help you with this since he's the expert in the Fade and the stuff you mages dream at night."

She snorted, glancing at him. "And how do you know that?"

"I've heard a few of your conversations. Can't he do a spell to drive your nightmare away?"

She bit on her lower lip. "I think so, yes. But I'm not going to ask for his help."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Look, I know you two have your differences, but you're not looking that good, Sparks. And he can help you. He won't say no to you."

A few months ago, this suggestion would have gained him a huff from the Herald, but now she nodded solemnly, without commenting on how annoying Solas was. He found it amusing how quickly they became friends, and he had a hunch this friendship might slowly turn into something else.

"We've solved our differences, Varric," she confirmed, staring down at her feet, deep in thought. "I  know he'd help me. I just don't want to burden him with my problems."

He admired Lavellan's stubbornness and eagerness to stick to her moral ideas, but, at this moment, he had to suppress his need to roll his eyes at her comment.

"You won't burden him. It's his duty to take care of you. You hold the key to the safety of this world in your hand. You have to stay healthy, or else we're doomed."

She straightened her back, a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. "So my health matters only because I'm bearing the Mark. Is that what you're trying to say?"

He sighed deeply and scowled at her knowing very well she tried to change the subject by bringing this up. "No. But your health is affected by this Mark, and we're here to help you."

"Well, I don't need your help," she barked, the fire blazing strongly again but, this time, her outburst did not impress him.

He spread his arms wide, drawing in a long breath, readying himself for the confrontation. "Look, Sparks. I get it. You don't like to talk about your feelings. You've been dealing with stuff alone since you left your Clan. But those things were simple, compared with what you have to do now. You're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. You need someone to talk with."

"No. I don't," she fumed, rubbing her temples, her skin turning red under her fingers. "I can deal with this alone."

He threw his hands up in frustration at her words, "No, you can't. Your fears won't let you sleep, and you need to talk about this. Before the bitterness and anger take control of you."

He could hear his blood pumping, her stubbornness giving him a headache. He took a deep breath in again to calm himself, but his heart still banged against his chest.

She jolted to her feet, balling her hands into fists. "Why do you care anyway? Isn't it like my lack of sleep is hurting you."

The question finally brought an end to his patience, and he found himself shouting, all of his worries making themselves heard." "Because one day, your anger will explode, and you will hurt everyone around you!"

She opened her mouth to speak, but no word came. She dropped back on the log, bowing her head. When she spoke again, her voice quivered. "I...would never think of hurting any of you."

His anger immediately dispersed, hearing the pain in her voice. He felt ashamed by his outburst, but the thought of her succumbing to her rage and fears made him realise he was right. He made the mistake of acting gently and carefully with Anders when he noticed the changes in him but never pushed him to seek help. He promised himself he won't make that mistake ever again, even if it meant shouting at the ones he cared about.

He reached for her shoulder, and she jerked under his touch but relaxed as he gave her a squeeze. She kept her head down, avoiding his eyes.

"I know, Sparks, I know," he spoke again, this time his voice softening, and he hoped she understood how much he cared about her and her well-being. And not only because she wore that cursed Mark but because he saw her as a friend. "But if you let your anger and fear build-up, it will happen. I've already seen that once. I don't want you to end up like that."

"You really think I should talk with Solas?” she asked, her voice just a whisper. She fidgeted with the rim of her blouse, wrapping it around her fingers.

"Yes. And if he won't help you, I'm here if you need to talk. I can't take your nightmares away, but I can listen. You're not alone."

When looked at him again, he saw tears forming at the corner of her eyes, but she quickly raised her hand and wiped them away. "I'll speak with Solas later. Thank you."

"It's fine, Sparks. Sometimes it's easy to forget others care about us.”

She rubbed her nose, sniffing loudly. "Kids learn only when you shout at them, right?"

He chuckled softly and released her shoulder. "Right."

They sat in silence for a few seconds, and before he could say anything, she got up again, but this time, her face showed no signs of anger. "I'll go get some wood for the fire."

He nodded at her, relief washing over him. "All right. I'll stay here."

She hummed in acknowledgement and strolled towards the forest. He watched her as she dragged her feet through the dust, head down, shoulders slumped, and he shook his head. He did the right thing by staying with the Inquisition because even heroes need a friendly shoulder to cry on.

[babieyangyang10]

violent ends (chapter 12)

(chapter 12)

series masterlist

genre: hunger games!au

pairings: huang renjun x oc, na jaemin x oc

warnings: lots of kissing, mentions of killing, description of injuries

previous | next

Athena's POV

It took a while for Jisung's quiet sniffles to fade the night of Chenle's death. By the time Mark and I had made our way back, Jaemin and Jisung had found out the news after they saw his face among the dead in the sky. Honestly, it was almost easier for Jisung to find out that way. I know Mark was in too much pain to tell him. As for me, I don't know how I could bare to look him in those innocent eyes and tell him either. As expected, he took it pretty hard. I mean, he was his best friend. He literally cried so much, that he eventually became exhausted and fell asleep.

I took the first watch, since Mark looked like he needed rest as well. The only other person who was still up was Na Jaemin.

"What are you thinking about?" Just like when we were alone in the first days, his head was resting on my lap.

"Jeno, Renjun, and the District 5 girl are the only ones left other than us." I point out.

Focusing on the positives, he replies, "Okay, well I'm guessing they'll go after her for us, since she's alone. Hopefully, they'll kill each-other. If not, we'll do it."

My voice was in a small whisper, "And then?"

He's silent.

I know District 2 is watching me right now. The same district that attachment is only necessary when it pertains to something you need. Once you have gotten what you've needed, you have to detach yourself. Almost like how a leech sucks enough blood until their fulfilled, then falls off on their own free will.

These people have given me my fill. Mark and Jisung took Jaemin and I in, even after Jaemin was injured. However, now we are both healthy as can be. As they sleep in front of me, what is stopping us from running away or even just killing them? Friends. Something I never had before. I never understood it until now. How it means that even though I'm full, I feel obligated to them too. To give just as much as they gave me.

But they are right. This is what they warned us about. This obligation will keep me captive. Let's say that we do all make it to the end together. Even so, the games will continue until a single victor. It happens every time.

The longest was the 25th games, it lasted for a total of twenty-seven days. This year the Districts had chosen the children of their mayors. Because of growing up wealthy and sheltered, none of the kids knew anything about fighting.

So they didn't. Half of them were wiped out by vicious mutations on the third day, then eventually others by starvation. However, the Gamemakers had a twist this year. Instead of the parachutes sending things to help and aid you, they sent down things like tracker jackers and acidic rain. No longer did the tributes have to survive eachother, but instead the sponsors.

Three weeks later, only two managed to do this: a brother and sister from District 9. Hopeless and broken, they decided to draw straws to see who would survive and win. The brother ended up getting the short one and gave his sister a kiss on the cheek before she stabbed him to death.

This just proves no matter how much you care for the other survivors, the Capitol won't give up until you kill the other.

The long silence was interrupted, "You know you're my priority. Ever since the beginning, only you."

"You know what I'm saying, what I'll do if I need to." Jaemin whispers sincerely, "I know you wouldn't like it, but we promised it would be me and you in the end, right?"

I knew exactly what he was alluding to. It doesn't matter if it's Mark or Jisung, he would kill anyone so we'd survive.

"I know." I speak even through the lump in my throat. There's no point in pretending or acting like things could never possibly come to that. I mean, it's not like the games are a place where you make friends.

Jaemin is sensitive to my discomfort, "Hopefully, it won't come to that, okay?"

All I could do was respond with a nod. Let's hope it doesn't.

It's almost natural the way I once again played with his hair to calm down. I noticed that since we've been separated, time had caused his nearly-black roots to appear, fading nicely into the frosty blonde. His eyes were more sunken in and tired, but still held the same old light as he peered up at me with interest, "You really have no shame, Athena."

"What do you mean?" I tease, playing innocent like I wasn't obviously checking out the beautiful boy just seconds earlier.

Then, in a burst of affection, the boy literally almost tackles me. My elbows brace myself up on the ground, as he leans over me. Alarmed, I turn my head to see the boys fast asleep, a good distance away.

When I look back at Jaemin, I feel my head start to buzz. It's seems like so long since I've been this close to someone. A someone who is somewhere far away in this arena. Someone, who in was in this same position with the night before I came here. In a soft voice, Jaemin's voice brings me back to the present, to him.

"Please."

Not long after I nod, I feel his lips softly brush over mine. Almost as if he's testing the waters. The kiss that follows is soft and delicate, yet brief. It's like I'm a piece of glass, that he is trying his best not to break. When, he backs away to see my reaction, I nearly chase after his lips. He just laughs to himself at the display of eagerness. I move back, so I'm entirely laying on the grass.

I try to be patient, not wanting to overstep our boundaries. However, when he looks down at me with absolute adoration, I didn't stop myself from grabbing his shirt with both my hands. Once I pulled him down into an bruising kiss, I could hear him let out a content sigh.

I get lost and entirely forget where I am. Instead of in an arena, it just feels like we're two young teenagers making out under the stars. It feels normal and completely right. Out of breath, he is now laying on top of me. My mouth is open in awe, while I marvel at the feeling. Relaxing, I could feel Jaemin smiling into my neck. Even in the dark, I know the cameras can see me also smiling like a fool to the sky.

After that, Jaemin decided to take his watch and let me sleep. It was the first peaceful sleep I have had until forever. That was, of course, until a young boy named Park Jisung ruined it.

"We need water!" Beside me was a knocked out, Jaemin. He was leaning against a tree, while my head was leaning against his shoulder.

"Okay, fine. Just shush." I was trying to be wary of Jaemin, who stayed up for both of our watches.

Grabbing my stuff, I say a brief goodbye to Mark. Jisung happily follows me like a little puppy, probably glad to finally get out of the camp again.

The fresh sun illuminates the water of the lake. Birds are singing good morning to one another.  I hand my bag to Jisung, as I take out my bottle. The tiny fish quickly swim away as I fill Mark and I's bottles up with water.

I feel a tug on my leather jacket.

"Athena." Jisung was pale, looking behind me.

My head snapped around to automatically meet eyes with Lee Jeno. Across the lake, he had just arrived with Renjun.

I don't waste any time before grabbing Jisung and running into the woods behind me. However, we could only get a small distance before Jisung fell to the ground, clutching his bad leg, "I can't."

"You can. Come on." I tried to hold him up like I did during the forest fire. I could hear the two Careers just around the corner.

"I'll slow you down." Jisung begged, "You gotta go without me." 

Not even having it, I grabbed him and sat him down behind a nearby bush. Since the bush was fairly small, I had to go to the only other one across the clearing.

"Let's split up." I hear nearby.

Through a gap in the branches, I see Lee Jeno come around the corner. My heart pounds with each of his steps. Jeno gets closer and closer the bush Jisung is hiding behind. I violently curse in my head as I realized Jisung was carrying my backpack with all of my weapons in it.

I guess we're gonna have to do this a different way.

I dart out of my bush and begin running in the opposite direction of camp. That way, Jisung could hopefully make it back undetected to get help.

I don't look back at all. I just keep running until I get back to the lake. Before I can change direction, I feel someone jump on me.

Crashing down, the side of my head collides with a large boulder. At first, it's completely numb and I'm able to push the tall boy off of me.

However, once I push myself up, I start to see black and fall back to the ground.

"Hey, I got her!" Jeno yelled out to Renjun.

"We've been looking for you, pretty girl." His arms have mine completely pinned to the dirt. The more I struggle against him, the more the white dots fill up my vision.

Renjun's POV

When I run towards Jeno's voice, I eventually found the two of them.

Jeno was holding the small girl. Lee Athena's face was as white as a sheet. Blood was pouring out of her head, falling in thick drops down the side of her face. I couldn't even tell if she was even conscious at this point.

She was completely limp as the boy sat her up on her knees, "Why don't you finish her off?"

"Look who came to join us." He cooed, grabbing her hair to make her look up at me.

Her half-lidded eyes recognized me right away. Although, there wasn't any signs of fear or sadness for what she knew was about to happen to her. She almost looked like she was challenging me. You wouldn't.

Would I?

"Do it." Jeno urged me. Her chin was tilted back by his hold on her hair, neck entirely on display. My hand was tightly wrapped around the familiar blade in my hands.

I tried to quickly come up with an excuse for my next actions in my head. I mean it would have to happen eventually. At least, it would be somewhat quick.

Then, I did it.

[bunny-wk-fanfic]

Could I possibly, maybe, get a cute fic with Kuwabara being all sorts of nervous about his first date with Kagome, who he met in class at college? Yusuke and Keiko can be his coaches, while Kurama is trying to make him all suave and debonair and Hiei is being Hiei? Cause I've been craving some Kuwa/Kag something fierce ❤

Despite what his friend was saying, he was nervous. His palms were sweating, and he kept rubbing them against his pants, and all he could do was try and smile at the conflicting advice he was being given.

“Uh, guys?” his nervous call went unanswered as the only couple in the room were more occupied with each other on whose advice he should follow.

“No, Yusuke, he shouldn’t display his power in front of the poor girl.” Keiko shook her head, frowning up at her smug fiance. “He might end up scaring her for life.”

Yusuke snorted. “It won you over, didn’t it?” he smirked in her suppressed cry of anger, easily taking the smacks to his arm as if they were nothing. Which, in his case, they probably were.

“Why- Oh, you ass!” her gaze narrowed when she realized that her slaps to his arm were doing nothing, instead, reaching up to snatch an ear and pull Yusuke to her height. Teeth gritted at his surprised yelp. “It’s their first date. First dates shouldn’t involve fighting of any kind! Ya got that!”

Turning away from the two that had been eager to help him when he first revealed his interest in a classmate, he turned to a certain redhead that appeared amused by the couple obviously lost in their own world. “Kurama?” when he had his friend’s full attention, he offered a shaky smile. “Ya got any advice that I can follow?”

Smile turning into something, suave, Kurama nodded his head. “Of course.” red hair was flicked over his shoulder as green eyes took on a more golden hue. “Make the entire night about her. Compliment her, keep eye contact with her throughout the night. It would be better to keep some form of physical contact with her as well. You’re the male in the relationship, so take the lead but be polite and subtle about it.”

Kuwabara had been nodding his head, understanding some of what his friend was saying, but it slowed before stopping completely when the advice would end up hurting his chances with the girl more than help him. “Say what now?”

“If, for whatever reason, she seems to be bored with whatever you’re talking about, don’t be afraid to show her that you have options.” more of the kitsune spirit began to leak through, the tone and words taking on a slightly more devious quality to them. “Flirt with other women if you have too. You might even be able to swing both women into a night-!”

Keiko’s screech and a resounding slap interrupted Kurama’a continuation, thankfully in Kuwabara’s opinion. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand as his friend blinked a few times, coming back to his senses. “What did you ask for again, Kuwabara?”

“Tips on my date tonight?” his smile was still sheepish, hoping that Kurama would now have valid advice and dreading that it could also spiral into something that may have sounded like a skin flick reject.

“Oh, yes!” green eyes brightened. “Be polite and courteous. In these days, give her the option when it comes to certain things, but also let her know it’s no trouble. Such as paying for the meal, opening doors for her.”

Swallowing, Kuwabara soaked up the more helpful advice. This was something that Kurama often did when he accepted a few rare dates with a coworker or classmate of his own. Seeing it work for his friend had been the main reason he asked Kurama for assistance, he didn’t want to think about what could happen should their relationship became more intimate.

Looking back up, he halted when he saw that Kurama was currently attempting to keep Keiko from scaring Yusuke too badly when the filter between his brain and mouth apparently stopped working. Instead, he turned to the last member that could offer some sort of words of wisdom, if he was willing. Seeing the heavy red gaze on him, he took a chance to ask. “Anything you want to add?”

Hiei snorted, gaze turning away. “I couldn't care less if you mate the wench or kill her. I’m just happy Yukina got over her little infatuation she had with you.”

Blinking, he pulled back at his words. “Yukina had a crush on me?” the scowl his question earned had him attempting to real back to save his neck. It was somewhat flattering that Yukina had a crush on him, he would have thought she’d be more attracted to Kurama or another yuki-onna. But, like Hiei, she proved to be more than what she appeared to be. “Ah, don’t worry, don’t worry! I see her as a sort of kid sister!”

Obviously sensing the truth in his words, Hiei scoffed once again and turned away to observe the world outside of the window he claimed as his current perch. Looking at the clock, Kuwabara stood up from his seat and attempted to straighten out his outfit. “Well, I gotta get going, guys. Thanks again for all your help!”

Keiko and Kurama looked up at him with bright smiles. “Good luck, Kuwabara. She’s a lucky girl.” Keiko’s comment had him ducking in an attempt to hide his blush.

“I agree. You ‘ll do fine, just be yourself.” Kurama muffled Yusuke’s mouth, no doubt stopping any raunchy comments from being heard.

With another wave, Kuwabara left and made his way to where he was picking his date up, from her home. He found it admirable that she took such a long trip to get to and from their university, so she could stay and help her family with their home. When he came to the right address, he now understood what she meant by not being surprised and waiting for her to come to greet him. Looking at his watch, he realized he was early, so he decided to climb the steps that led up a steep hill. To think that she walked up and down these steps every day! Although, they weren’t as many as at Genki’s place, but there were still a lot.

Cresting on a humble shrine, he was instantly wowed by that large tree that towered over the courtyard, the late evening sun casting the tree’s over the small home that was tucked away in the back, guiding his way. There had never been a tree that he crossed paths with that felt like that huge tree, it was calming and now it was no wonder how his date seemed to maintain the same air around her all the time.

When he knocked on the front door, a boy blinked up at him. “Woah.”

Smiling, Kuwabara waved in greeting. “Hiya, little fella. Your sister home?”

The boy didn’t answer him, instead his eyes narrowed as he looked him up and down. “You’re weird looking.” with a shake of his head, ignoring Kuwabara’s slight miffed expression, he opened the door wider allowing him entrance as he called out into the house. “Sis, your date is here!”

“Coming!” her voice echoed from somewhere upstairs, instantly easing Kuwabara’s growing tensions.

Closing the door, the boy looked back at him, gaze still narrowed and lips pursed. “You better not do anything to her.”

The accusing tone had Kuwabara jumping to defend himself. “Oh! No! No, I would never!” he was just about ready to jump and defend his honor. If there was one thing his sister made her he knew growing up, it was to treat women right and with the utmost respect.

“Souta! Quit it!” exasperation accompanied by quick steps, had both turning stairs, watching as a young woman they were waiting for approached.

To saw Kuwabara was floored would be an understatement. He always thought she was pretty, but right now, she was beautiful. She left her hair free to curl about her shoulders, a dark blue dress that had faded flowers printed brought to point just how petite she truly was but made her all the more feminine. Simple silver earrings with a matching simple delicate chain was all she wore for jewelry, and as for makeup, perhaps some mascara and tainted lip gloss.

“Kuwabara!” her expression immediately bloomed into a bright smile, cheeks blushing slightly as she reached his side. As she stood on the tips of her toes, she tugged his taller frame to meet her half-way so she could kiss his cheek. “I told you that I would meet you at the bottom of the stairs.”

“Nah.” smiling down at her, he forgot all his worries when her small hands kept holding onto his arms as she slowly dropped back to her feet. “I’ve climbed more than that. And it wouldn’t be proper to make you climb all those stairs alone on our first date.”

Both of them blushed when his words seemed to make them realize that they were going out as a couple on their first date. The moment was interrupted when Souta spoke up. “Sheesh, talk about a couple of saps. I’m gonna get a cavity with all this sweet lovey-dovey crap.”

Kagome’s expression soured when she turned to her brother. “Keep that up, and Hitomi won’t stick around for much longer.”

Souta blushed and backed away from his angry sister. “I- I- I’ll be leaving now! Have fun! And if you hurt her, I’ll hunt ya down, ya got that!”

Kuwabara chuckled, but agreed to Souta’s threat, welcomed him to keep his promise even. He smiled when Kagome huffed and shooed her brother away. “So annoying!” her cheeks flushed as she pouted.

“He’s just doing his job as a brother!” Kuwabara chuckled when he poked a puffed out cheek, mentally cooing at how cute she was. “Are you ready?”

With another huff, she muttered about just needing to put her shoes on. He happily helped her, giddy when she accepted his held out hand to keep her balance. With a few careful taps, she looked back up at him with a bright smile. “I am now!”

Grin widening, he turned them to the door, bidding her family farewell with a promise to bring Kagome back home at a reasonable hour and unmolested, he set them out on their first date.

“I’m happy you accepted.” he was on cloud nine with Kagome on his arm, there was nothing that could get him down.

Ducking her head, Kagome blushed as she peeked up at him “I’m happy you asked.” a quick kiss to his cheek nearly caused him to trip and drag her down with him. Her giggles echoed around them as they walked down the sidewalk, Kagome asking if he was alright and him assuring her that he was.

[l1ana]

Imagine you and Spiderman being like Adrien and Bridget from ML

Summary: Incase y'all don't know wtf this prompt is— Basically it's [Name] with a crazy crush on Peter but he's either totally oblivious to it, un-purposefully ignore her, or is focusing on another girl. Meanwhile, he -as both spiderman and peter- completely falls in love with her hero alter ego albeit she shows no interest in Spiderman whatsoever. I got this idea after watching a bit of the Miraculous Ladybug original concept video and just had a sort of breakthrough. Anyways, on with the story.

———

“Hey, Peter...” You scrambled to navigate through the sea of fellow classmen, desperate to catch up to your object of interest. He just wasn't hearing you, and that deeply plummeted your mood. Before you knew it, he was gone— Disappearing into the crowd probably never to be seen again until lunch classes.

Peter Parker, biggest geek in highschool. Always bullied, always harassed in ways you thought were impossible. He seemed like the type to keep his head low and live an honest normal life, but little did anyone have clue on about his contrasting alter ego— Spiderman. As said hero of Queens, Peter could do everything he couldn't do as an average teenager. Who knew red and blue spandex was the key to becoming famous?

You sighed as thoughts of Peter bubbled into your head and revolved without signs of stopping. His nerdish and oh-so dorky quirks were the center of your attention aside from his baby face. Not to admit it, but you were in love with the charmer like a mad puppy. But the thing is— He never took notice of you. Hell, he probably doesn't even know that you exist. The only time you two ever met gazes was during class switches, before school, in the middle of lunch, or after school. Other than that, you were a ghost pretty much.

Today was no different from the rest; besides there being the fact that a pair of tickets were in your left hands hold. They crumpled up when your grip increased tenfold, tears threatening to pour down your eyes. ‘This is so unfair.’ You thought to yourself. ‘Why is it that whenever I try to start something with him... Fate just doesn't allow it?’ Your heart fell heavy into your chest. People would call you callow or petty for thinking what you did, but the thing of the matter is that your crush has been the same since elementary school years and continued from there. There was no doubt in your mind that Peter Parker was the one for you.

But, then again, he doesn't even know who you are.

Thankfully, you had a way to change that.

“Hey, Peter!” This morning, you wasted no time in dashing and shoving anyone who dared to get in your way out of eyesight and tracked the chocolate haired boy to a more secluded part of the hallways. The both of you were panting a bit, tired from all of the post-exercise. “P-Peter... Parker...” You breathed out, hands on your knees. “I am... I'm...” Before you could continue on and let him know who you were, the bell rang. Whoopdy-effing-doo. Oh how you wanted to pummel your bad luck into a pulp. “Sorry, I gotta go... Maybe later?” He cringed a bit, aware of how inconsiderate he was being towards you.

With those words left in his wake on your mind, he hurried off to his next class. It took some moments to pass by until a more than visible red hue formed on your face in a horitonzal fashion. Your pair of hands raised to slap your cheeks and squish them in multiple different ways, meanwhile you wore the most lovesick expression you swore you could make without seeming like you were on drugs.

‘Maybe later, he said..’ You recited his words in your head over and over like a song. Small yelps and cheers of joy escaped your lips as the thought didn't cease to fade away. Step one to getting acknowledged was complete. Now if only you could—

“[Name], there's a robbery down at the city bank.” A robotisized voice rang through your left ear. You sighed heavily. “Uggghh. That's not my problem, Stein. Let the police handle it.” Your hand waved through the air. “It seems to be another one of Electro's heists.” “.... UGGGGHHH.” Getting to the city and back would put your last two periods to waste no doubt and you'd also lose a chance to go out and establish a bond with the apple of your eye. But after hearing that Electro was involved, you found that there was no other choice but to go out and do this. Besides, the cops wouldn't stand a chance against him.

‘I'm sorry Peter, you'll have to talk to me sometime later.’ You silently apologized to your crush in your mind, hoping that he would telepathically get your message. Afterwards, you ran into the nearest bathroom and then was seen jumping out the window into the street, except your attire had changed completely. Instead of being dressed down in the usual ‘[Name] wear’, a skin-tight bodysuit overtook you, a half of a face mask covering your face whilst a horn headband was slapped atop of your shimmering hair.

You hopped and skipped from building to building, the voice in your left earring continuing to speak. “There seems to be several hostages under his clutches. He seems to be anticipating the arrival of somebody... My bet is on you, [Name].” He hypothesized. “Oh put a damn sock in it.” You huffed.

After a few more leaps into the air, you skidded off the edge of a shop building and landed directly in the open circle of crowding people. They had instantly moved out of your way at your arrival, going into a state of indistinctive chattering. “I-It's Queen!” A man exclaimed, noticing you right away as you began to talk to a nearby police officer to get the scoop on what's going on.

Queen— Your alter ego hero self, affiliated with the avengers as a late bloomer type. Your powers consisted of shifting into anything solid along with a side of light generation from your hands. The shifting part of your ability allowed you to increase the speed of your cells, making your body seem as though it were gas, and slipping through solids without a problem. The other part is self-explanatory. To be quite frank, Queen was a alias that your supporting fans had made and you just went along with it, that name eventually sticking to you like glue and becoming your permanent hero name. Funny thing, really, cuz you were the Queen of Queens New York.

“I see,” You nodded at the information the cop divulged with you. “Thank you. Now please, stand back, it may get too hectic alright?” At your words the cop nodded, giving orders to back the people who crowded the front of the bank up. You jumped onto the top of the building, holding your breath and phasing through the roof. It took naught but a few seconds later for you to be landing perfectly on your feet, an all-too familiar laugh echoing from far away. The floors were wet. Oh how you've been through this song and dance one too many times before. “Stein, I need a heat signature scan all around if you don't mind.” You whispered into your earpiece.

“7 of them, each of them with their pulses fulctuating at rapid speeds.” The AI spoke. “He must've already pulled a stunt on them before the police arrived.” The first priority before moving on to Electro was to evacuate the premises of any remaininf victims. And that's exactly what you did. It was hard since most of them were all in different and difficult to reach places of the bank but the number was instantly knocked down to one left.

You scratched your head and thought aloud. “Where's the last one at...?”

“You mean, this body right here?” A menacing cackle interrupted, you turning your direction to whence it came from only to witness Electro standing a few feet away from you, hostage in a chokehold on his left arm. In the other arm was the occasional sack of cash that you were sure he wouldn't get away with. Your eyes rolled, unintentionally getting a glimpse of a familiar spandex wearing hero. He was new and all. Round of applause everyone, for the one and only Spiderman.

When he saw that you were staring directly at him, he waved, then making various hand motions that you somehow in god understood. Basically he was going to shoot a string of web at the hostage and hoist them up, stealing them from Electros grip and giving you chance to take the preemptive and just go wild— But also take caution into not destroying the place.

As Electro went on and on with his planned monologue, Spiderman used the chance for when his eyes were closed to not only shoot some web in his face as a stunning effect, but also managed to snag the hostage in one fell swoop. Two birds with one stone— Neat. “What is this substance on my face!?” Electro screamed, trying to claw it off but to no avail. You laughed at this scene. For some reason, Spiderman had the oddest feeling that he had recognized your voice from somewhere. After the fit of chuckles faded, you made sure to give your target such a hard two-piece, that Spiderman swore he saw some teeth flew out of his mouth.

‘Whoa...’ Was the only thing that crossed his mind. Despite your petite figure, you were strong enough to knock a grown man unconscious with just one slug? “You can take it from here, Spider-guy. I've got better things to do besides turning him in. You can do that on my behalf, right?” You yawned, making your way towards the south exit, away from the mob. “O-of course, miss Queen!” He hopped off the ceiling and landed to the ground, ensuring to web the now knocked out cold ‘threat’ up real good and give the police to bust in finally. Once they did, he trailed right after where he saw you leave, only to catch you flipping and twirling in the air with such haste.

Even behind the mask anyone could see the smile forming as his eyes lit up just from seeing you. Needless to say here, but he was all over you. A complete and utter fanboy who joined the wave after witnessing some viral videos of you committing deeds that he would usually perform.

“H-hey, wait up!” He called after you, tailing the direction you went. “Huh?” Feeling that call be directed to you, your head clocked round to see the same spiderboy from before, flipping onto a pipe in front of you. “Oh, you again.” Your expression deflated a slight bit at his presence. “What is it?” You asked, hoping to get him out of your hair quickly. “Oh, well, I-I, uhm...” He stammered over his words, taking in the beauty of yourself in whole as something to beheld. “Queen, your last period is almost closing. Be sure to wrap this up quickly.” Stein reminded you, causing a shrill screech to release from your parted lips. “CRAAAAPPP!!!!” You instantly turned your back towards Peter and took off without another word, disappearing into the city.

Spiderman just stood there, processing what had just transpired. This was rare. Well, him getting all tounge tied while underneath the mask he called Spiderman. Seemed like your charismatic charms overpowered his. Not like that wasn't to be expected — You were pretty cute if he'd have to agree with your thousands of rowdied fanboys and girls. Jeesh, he felt himself falling head over heels for you instantly.

“I'm here!” You exhaled, busting the door to your last period classroom. There was no reason for you to give a damn about all the eyes laid on you when you performed such an action. After all, “[Name] Stark. Just on time before the bell rings.” You were the daughter of the most famous idol in all of New York, so school imaging meant nothing.

As soon as the bell rang, you were in the hallways being swamped with the rest of your classmates. In the middle of all the traffic, a shoulder bumped into yours. “H-hey, what the hell—” Turns out, it was the absolute love of your life once again— Walking out of your eyesight and never to be seen again until tomorrow morning.

‘Dammit. I still had time and couldn't give him the tickets.’ You mentally pouted with that curse.

———

Idfk if y'all want me to tag y'all in pt.2, but I'm making a part.2 just for your information

[mrsspidermanmaryjanewatsonparker]

I've shipped Peter/MJ since the 2000 Spider-Man video game (PS1, N64, etc.). When did you first started shipping them?

Its difficult to say.

The truth is my very earliest memories of anything Spider-Man related is actually of the Black Cat. It was a cartoon which I know couldn’t have been the 1994 show but I can’t think what else it COULD have been. I was 3 so my memory of it has long since faded.

However between that and Black Cat’s merchandise and involvement in the 90s cartoon episodes I saw I actually began shipping Peter and Felicia.

I was never someone who was like against the Peter/MJ relationship on the show. I enjoyed and thought them getting married was actually pretty cool and for awhile believed that to the the last episode of the show period.

However I still shipped Peter and Felicia. 

And oddly she always seemed to show up whenever I watched the show, even in MJ centric stories like the wedding or the Hydro Man two parter where MJ on the 90s show turned out to be a water clone.

In a very strange way I think that two parter is actually what really got the ball rolling on me shipping Peter and MJ.

Like I said I’d seen the wedding episode and thought it was kinda cool that Spider-Man got married because back then I thought that’s just what everyone does when they grow up and because I knew married people. Like you know...my parents...Side note, I should mention that my culture very much emphasizes marriage as important. So maybe that is a factor.

Anyway I saw the Hydro Man episode and it was probably the single most gut punching, heart wrenching piece of TV of my life. Like for my little kid brain, it was like the Red Wedding levels of emotional shock and sadness because it was so profoundly cruel.

Poor MJ EVAPORATED. And poor Spider-Man was left all alone screaming as the underwater base flooded.

Like...Jesus Christ...

From then on there was always this sense for me and everyone else watching the show of wanting Spider-Man to be happy again and find Mary Jane.

Don’t get me wrong, I still shipped him and Felicia, but wanting him to find MJ was sort of something we all wanted for the character and the show precisely BECAUSE the Hydro Man 2 parter had been just that cruel and painful. 

That was part of why in the comics I was pleased to see her alive and well when I began reading.

Like I said though, I still shipped him and Black Cat. In fact I remember actually really enjoying a panel in an info book of the two of them swinging across the city together with some romantic captioning involved and that made me ship them even more. When I worked for the same company that made that book I even subtly made them change an image in one of their books to that same image I just mentioned because I liked it so much.

As time went by and I continued to read the comics MJ grew more and more on me as did her and Peter’s relationship, especially as I learned more about her backstory (from that same info book I mentioned above).

Weirdly, much like the Hydro Man 2 parter I think what finally made my appreciation of MJ outpace my preference for Felicia was when Mackie and Byrne killed her off and consequently brought her back only to write her out again in ASM Annual 2001.

I can’t quite explain it, but seeing the book take Mj away again and the despair it created in the book because of it and the dissatisfaction it left me (and other readers) weirdly made me want her and that relationship back, even though logically it made things possible for Peter to now hook up with Felicia.

Cut to the JMS run and I was actively rooting for MJ and Peter to get back together and couldn’t quite believe it when it actually happened.

Watching shitty UK soap operas like EastEnders had sort of geared me to expect that something like that wasn’t going to happen and wasn’t going to last for long if it did. So to see it happen, for it to subvert expectations and continue to do so thereafter was a big deal for me.

I guess the 2002 movie also helped out. I don’t really ship those versions of the characters but it certainly helped cement in my mind that MJ was THE Spider-Man love interest.

As time has gone by I’ve honestly grown to appreciate and ship them more and more. I went through a period of time in like 2007 (i was going through other shit in my life too though) where I beleived all the hype surrounding Gwen Stacy through shit like House of M and all the bullshit Quesda et al were spewing about the marriage being built upon bullshit. That was really depressing for me, even though I still wanted the relationship to stand as I’d believed it to be.

What was amazing though is that in 2012 when I got BACk into Spider-Man hardcore I read the esay series ‘Why did It have to be you Mary Jane’ which changed my old outlook.

Whilst before I’d presumed stuff like House of M and Quesada’s claims to be true that essay was written by an OLD school fan, one who had actually been following the series (and that relationship) for most of it’s existence and was in copious detail debunking shit like House of M, Quesada and all the other crap I’d absorbed from the build up to One More Day.

He was also corroborrating a lot of my thoughts and feelings on the characters and relationship and even expanded upon it. 

That was a big deal for me as it validated a lot of what I’d thought and felt and sort of reconsturcted Spider-Man in my mind. 

For years I’d walked around thinking (and this applied to more than just the marriage, but all things Spidey) that I had simply gotten it wrong, that I’d never really understood Spider-Man.

But suddenly I was reassured that no, I’d been right and simply outright LIED to by Marvel.

Since then I sort of explored the characters a lot more and thought more deeply on them. Consequently I’ve shipped them more and more as time has gone by.

Long story short: There wasn’t one singular moment where I suddenly shipped the two of them, it was a gradual process of her overtaking Felicia, mostly prompted from her being removed from the series at various points.