#and looking at one piece ocs makes the brain rot less | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blookmallow · 1 year ago

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i have no idea how i arrived at this train of thought but my brain wont let me sleep so somehow i started thinking about… OCs Described As Writing Utensils? i dont know it makes more sense when you read them ok

venus: a quill made from a peacock feather, dipped in gold and coated in diamond dust

dahlia: a fairy’s quill, from a hummingbird feather. it writes in purple and smells like berry wine

mayzie: a candy pen. no, really, it’s Made of candy. it writes in some kind of horrendous sticky red syrup that smells like cherry and oozes everywhere. the eraser is just a marshmallow and does nothing but spread the candy goo around even more. your hand gets covered in sugar and glitter just touching it. everything is sticky. this is a nightmare

celina/cesare: a beautiful two-sided silver pen. the middle is glass with intricate metal filigree around it, so you can see the ink swirling around inside. it never seems to run out. if activated by magic, one side writes of ethereal dreams, and the other, cryptic secrets. whether they are the dreams and secrets of a particular being, or gathered from many, is unknown.

chris: a tablet pen that writes with light instead of ink, and works telepathically- it can only write and erase at the owner’s will. also functions as a regular tablet pen with any device, and doubles as a flashlight

kadri: a bone with an eyeball (from what, you ask? dont ask so many questions.) set in one side and a sharp point at the other that immediately sets any paper on fire if you try to write with it. “why would you have this,” people ask you, “where did you even get this,” they ask, “it’s watching me,” they complain, “i think it wants to hurt me,” “i can hear it whispering when i try to sleep at night,” blah blah blah, they’re all just jealous of your cool evil bone pen. you can sort of scratch words into things if you work at it enough. the letters always seem to start dripping blood whenever you do that, though. weird.

kalidasa: a smooth black stone slab with a beautiful glossy surface your eyes get lost in if you look at it for too long. your thoughts appear in white, smokey letters if you focus your mind on it. sometimes other things appear, too. you shouldn’t worry about those things.

damian: an elegant but dusty quill made from a raven’s feather, with an inkbottle filled with blood laced with arsenic. there was no reason to add the arsenic, but you just have so much arsenic

dreyden: an old, dented pen you’ve had for ages. it still mostly works. you really should replace it, but it’s your favorite. there was a reason you were holding on to it, you’re sure, but you don’t remember why

crow: a rusty jagged piece of metal. you use it to carve your name into things, mostly. you like the horrific metallic screeching sound it makes when you scrape it against stuff. it isn’t really a pen, but you barely know how to write, anyway

laelia: a glitter gel pen with a mutilated barbie head stuck on the end of it. there’s a crack in one side, so it leaks out on your hands, and the sharp broken edge stabs into your skin if you try to write with it. come to think of it, you’re not entirely sure this is ink. it smells like motor oil and sulfur

roach: a soft, moldy crayon. you’re pretty sure crayons aren’t supposed to go bad, much less grow mold, but this one is definitely rotting. it’s dissolving in your hands before you can even write anything. the stains it leaves won’t wash out for weeks, and it leaves your hands itching and inflamed.

sage: an antique wood and brass pen that doesn’t work anymore, but for some reason you’re still holding onto it. it’s not worth enough to sell. there’s a name on it, but its so worn away you can’t read it. you don’t know who it belonged to- you found it half buried on the beach years ago. but somehow, it feels like it matters.

johnny: a busted up paint pen held together with a hello kitty bandaid that leaks everywhere but you keep insisting on keeping it anyway. you’ve had it for like 10 years and it still works somehow. you call it Kevin. kevin is always there for you

clive: an expensive but somehow terrible artist pencil. its extremely thin and the lead breaks every couple minutes and leaves graphite dust everywhere whenever you use it. it doesn’t have an eraser. why do you still have this. you dont even use it for art, you just write grocery lists and the occasional terrible poem. just get a normal pen

malkin: your ex’s favorite pen. you don’t remember if you stole it, or if they left it behind, or maybe you borrowed it, but you didn’t mean to take it, not really, and it’s too late to give it back, but you don’t want to, you hate them, they don’t deserve it, or maybe you keep it because it reminds you of them, or maybe it’s just a nice pen, that’s all, it doesn’t even matter anyway, you could replace it any time, but you won’t just yet, not right now, not yet,

lex: an obnoxious sparkly pen that gets glitter on your hands and everywhere else every time you use it. you left it in your friend’s bed once (dont ask what you were doing there) and he’s still trying to get the glitter out of the sheets. you’ve been using it to write diaries and doodles for years, and it’s finally starting to run out. you use it less and less, every time hoping it still works, and every time it seems to have just enough left. for some reason, the thought of it dying upsets you more than it should.

zack: a zombie pen you found at some off brand halloween store years ago. it used to make zombie groan sounds, but it’s broken now and just makes a horrible high pitched electronic screech instead. you never use it for writing but it is your most favorite pen in the world and everyone hates you for it which makes it your favorite even more than before

#ok i think my brain has satisfied itself im out of ideas for these now #cellophane rose #our eyes of glass #and zack i guess #i know i missed shuri i couldnt think of a good one for her #something something clockwork pen with gears that are always turning #but as for a Thing it would do or magic ability i don’t know

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willowedwisteria · 3 years ago

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Okay so like, all these brainrots have been very disconnected ideas and mostly au what-ifs(™️)

1) imagine if instead of trying to bring darling PHYSICALLY albedo can only bring their consciousness(?) into genshin, but with the archons pressuring him he forgets to make you a body

Leading to darling’s consciousness... being placed into either a weapon or a piece of jewelry. Basically what I’m saying is: yugioh-esque au because I think it would be funny

2) blatant fatui favoritism. Not even just for the harbingers, hell darling would die for any of the npcs and enemies, like the northland bank guards, viktor and the other two diplomats in mondstadt, fatui skirmishers aren’t safe from the blatant favoritism either

3) hrgrhrgh villain au but it just leads to a slime rancher!darling who has a bunch of slimes (+maybe other monsters as farmhands BKDBDKD) and a farm for them

3a) imagine hydro slimes but instead of just water they’re made out of ink or paint, or fruit juice? Idk slimes are canonically made out of elemental energy(?) but wouldn’t it be NEAT if through out of sheer will and love for their creator they get to be made out of different things now

4) still thinking about the “darling slowly turns less human” concept from Before™️ and like.... the effects are definitely more pronounced in villain au. Like imagine a darling slowly getting to mirror maiden or abyss herald height, but they don’t notice because they’re more preoccupied with revenge, or getting “natural armor” like foul legacy/abyss heralds/lectors

The armor could also be reasoned by “darlings internal godly magic™️ is responding to their distress and producing it to protect them”? (I don’t really think too far ahead outside of “monster cool”)

5) not really a au or concept brainrot really but it’s been rotting my brain for a while and like bdjdbsjgzjsbdk /pos

But I’ve been reading @/veritaoscurata’s works and like 👀👀 I Am Looking Respectfully, good shit bro, plus it kinda makes me wanna write about my own ocs for purely self indulgence reasons......

-🍡 (you’re free to respond to all of of these points or just whatever you feel comfortable with, I hope you enjoy them anyways :D)

1. I'm very interested! I would love to actually write about this idea that you've written out. 10/10 for me.

2. As someone who doesn't have much of an opinion towards the Fatui, I don't know if I could start writing about any favoritsm towards them.

3. A farm Villain AU? I would not mind writing anything out about this concept. It would be nice to just see reader taking care of a bunch of slimes. Reader will have to keep pyro slimes in a not so burnable place though.

4. My my my, it feels like we're just messing around with darling's body at this point. Turning less and less human is totally within the realm of possibilities, and I actually wouldn't mind writing about this idea!!

If you want to indulge in your own OCs, then go right ahead! No one is stopping you!

#WIsteriaasks #genshin #genshin impact #self aware genshin #genshin sagau #genshin cult au #genshin self aware au

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gukieater · 3 years ago

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Fic idea 1 : Apocalyptic Heart

Pairing: Jungkook x OC (f) X Taehyung

Genre: Post Apocalyptic World, Zombie, Special Ability (Jungkook), experiments, evolution, illegal medical trial, inhuman treatment, Survival, Angst, fluff (eventual smut), possible future yandere (Jungkook), blood, possible dismantling, biting, death of minor characters, age difference, noona.

Disclaimer: This is not a full fiction or story, merely a plot. Please read this post before proceeding. If you are reading this, you can reblog the post if u want to!

Music Recommendation: Wolves of Odin- Colossal Trailer Music

Plot or Synopsis: It is about an apocalyptic world where the human population is overthrown by mutated creatures, who once used to be human. L/N Y/N is a 21 year old girl surviving on her own. She's constantly on the road, salvaging supplies for survival, on her daily run, she meets lone or group of survivors but she never sticks around, living by her rule "Alone is Safe".

On her journey to survival she meets a pregnant woman who seems to be on the run and in a pretty bad shape. Around 3 years ago, Y/N lost her sister when the breakout started, and she remembered how she was helpless enough not being able to save her sister. Seeing the pregnant woman, she is reminded of her elder sister and gets attached. So she decides to stay by her to take care of her and her unborn baby and breaks the one and only rule she lived by so far, to survive alone.

Soon she realizes the woman is being chased by people, not just brain eating monsters. They seem powerful and battle ready. She kept asking the woman why she was being chased and she told Y/N the less she knew, the safer she will be. Running from them being the 1st priority, she doesn't press the woman for further explanation. One day while supply run, they are cornered by those mystery men's and they go into hiding. The anxiety and stress leads the woman to go into labor and she gives birth to a boy. But soon their hiding location is compromised and they need to run again. After the birth the woman is too weak to run. So refuses to go with Y/N saying she will slow them down. So Y/N now has a choice to either stay and get caught by those men or take the baby and run, leaving the mother behind. The woman insists she does the later. Y/N doesn't argue further, knowing that's the only logical thing to do. So even though she feels guilty, she vows to the woman to protect the child and runs away while the woman buys her time by tricking them thinking she has the baby.

Y/N is not the kind to stay in the same location for long as it draws the undead but she needs a place to keep the baby safe, since she can't carry him to her daily run. So she decides to settle down in some outskirt, to raise him in safety. But things starts to get complicated when she notices the kid isn't an average child. He is growing at an unprecedented rate and shows undisputable strength. By the time the child was 1 months old, he already grew into a 1 year old kid.

Although she decides to take the child in to protect it and raise, in the back of her mind she somewhat resents it, knowing it was the reason the mother had to sacrifice herself. It reminds of herself, how her elder sister sacrificed herself to a group of undead when they broke into her house in the middle of the night so she can buy Y/N some time to run away. If it wasn't for either of them, her sister and the mother would be alive. So she never cuddles the baby, only holds him when he's crying, doesn't name him, never shows any affection towards it. She feels kind of relieved for the child's growth as she didn't need to care for an infant for long. But there is something in the way the child looks at her, like she holds the moon and star for him, sometimes it bothers her as if the child sees through her.

After 4 months of settling down in a outskirt school near the hill, one day she returns home after salvaging for rations, she saw that the boy was not in the room. She clearly remembers locking the door when she left but seeing the door unlocked, she starts to panic. She starts looking for the boy and curses herself for not naming him. While calling out to the boy, she hears a faint voice. She followed the trail of voice and as she moved closer, the faint voice became clearer and she can clearly hear someone calling for 'Noona'. When she stepped into the backyard she could she the boy crouching down to a half-dead plant. As the boy touched the plant she watched in her dismay the plant coming back to life. Noticing her presence, the boy looked at her direction and calling out to her as "noona". She was both shocked and scared because she never taught him to speak neither spoke much around him. The boy observed her and watching her act distant and frightened around him made him upset. As he tried to approach her to hold her hand and comfort her, she kept looking at the plant. She saw the plant wither and eventually rot as he took a step further to her direction. She was startled, she tumbled on her feet and fall down on her back and called him a monster. With teary eyes he told her his name was Jungkook,not monster or "kid". Jungkook, that's what his mother wanted to call him.

She had a lot of questions to Jungkook. Like how he opened the lock, how he knew what her mother wanted to call him, how he knew how to speak and knew what monster meant and how was he doing that to the plant. He said that he felt sad and lonely so he wanted to find you, at first he didn't know how the lock worked but he figured it out. When he made it to the backyard, he the only thing that felt alive in there was the plant and it was dying. He felt like he could help it. When she asked how he knew what sadness and loneliness was he said he shared the memory of his mother from her pregnancy. She would often cry and feel restless what she termed as sadness or loneliness until she came along. That's how he knew who Y/N was, why he called her noona and how he knew he could trust her, as he described how his mother felt around her, safe & warm. She doesn't question further about the wilting plant. After talking to Jungkook, she started connecting the dots about why his mother was chased and how Jungkook was no ordinary child. She realized maybe keeping Jungkook safe won't be just as easy as raising him.

Jungkook learned and picked up on things quite easily so going to runs was getting quite easier but still uneasiness settled in Y/N's mind. She can't control the situation when she's away and the thought of Jungkook taken away or even worse getting attacked was quite startling. She never shows it but she deeply cares about the kid. Jungkook himself was quite clingy towards Y/N although she never reciprocates the affection. She simply keeps up the role of a provider. it's been already 16 months since they've been living in the outskirt and the undead are picking up on her scent due to her daily trail in the same direction as she keeps seeing more and more of them in the surrounding area.

So after a few close encounters and trial salvage run with Jungkook, she decides to move out of the outskirt and target bigger cities. She avoided bigger cities so far thinking the people chasing Jungkook's mother may still be looking for him. By the time living there, Jungkook already grew up to become a teenager so she reasoned, the people looking for him would be looking for a child, not so much of a well-build boy who looks like who is in his late teen's. She thought maybe it's time to move around. But maybe it was not a good decision after all. Things starts to shift, not always for the best interest. Few days in the city, Y/N starts to realize that Jungkook is perfectly fit to tend for himself and rather than keeping him safe, Y/N is the one slowing him down and making him vulnerable. If she's caught with Jungkook they can use her against him to make him comply but if she's not with him, he is perfectly capable and trained to slipping away.So she decides its time to go back to her old way of life. But things doesn't go as easy as she thought as with time she got extremely attached to Jungkook. On the other hand, Jungkook experiences the same thing unfold in front of him again. At first it was his mother, who was separated from him and now his Noona whom he loves very dearly is abandoning him again. He is upset and he doesn't understand why is she leaving him and it's driving him mad. He can't even read her as he promised he won't do it without her permission. Jungkook's heart is breaking but he departs from her without any objections.

On a run close to a suspicious facility, Y/N meets a survivor who she helps escape from people that looked a lot like the people chasing Jungkook's mother. The boy, not more than 2/3 years older than her introduces himself as Dr. Kim Taehyung, a young scientist from the facility. At first she doesn't trust him but things take turns and Taehyung proves to be someone reliable. Eventually she discovers a lot about the breakout, the undead and how the facility handled the things only to make it worse. Then he mentions something about the authority going crazy about a subject escaping the facility more than 1.5 year ago and Y/N becomes alert. The description of the escaped subject eerily matched with Jungkook's mother. So she questions taehyung about it and what she finds out leaves her frantic and full of fear & guilt. She sets out to find Jungkook with the help of Taehyung as soon as she can. When departing from Jungkook she knew they would both suffer but what she did not know that, growing up, the bond he shared with her, breaking it or separating Jungkook from her would take a big toll on Jungkook. With every passing moment without her, Jungkook will loose a piece of him that made him human, made him the boy Y/N knew & raised and turn him into more of a thing Y/N feared him to be in the beginning, a monster.

PS: is it a plot anymore? I'm not sure 😅. The plot I intended to write turned out to be more detailed than I would have originally liked but ehh, whatever. If anybody does decides to write about it, they have the full liberty to make changes into the plot or turn or take the story further in any direction they want. Whether they decide to give me a credit for it or nah, it's their discretion but if they do, it would be appreciated so the readers finding this blog may enjoy the full story as well ❤️

This picture is inspired by the entire storyline so far. The pictures I used to make this collage are collected from Pinterest, I don't own them.

#BTS #jungkook #taehyung #bts fic #apocalypse #zombie fiction #jungkook x noona #jungkook yandere #post apocalypse #bts world #jungkook fic #taehyung fic #special abilities #scientific fiction #bts fic idea

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spoon-writes · 4 years ago

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Ends of the Earth | Chapter 23

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Mando x OC

Read on FFN or AO3

Summary: When Sinead's husband is ripped from her, she escapes the Hutt Empire and goes on a quest to find him. Since being a runaway slave in the Outer Rim isn't exactly easy, she makes the Mandalorian an offer he can't refuse, and soon they travel across the galaxy looking for her missing husband.

Chapter index

Chapter 23 - Red Vekkass

Sinead was about to throw up.

Gripping the armrests so hard her knuckles turned white, she took a deep breath through her nose. This was it. The old mining station was a pinprick of darkness before the enormous gas giant which bathed the cockpit in a deep orange glow. They were too far away to be detected by scanners, but the space surrounding the station was surely filled with traps. One meter too far, and they would be shot down.

She was being pulled in two different directions, shaking with anger and grief while also wanting nothing more than for Kyen to hold her again. She missed him so much it hurt.

"How do you wanna do this?" Mando turned in his seat to look at her. She wished he wouldn't.

She didn't dare open her mouth, so she just shrugged. All higher brain power had been rerouted, circling around Kyen like a pack of vultures.

"I can try pinging them. Keep out of range of the artillery."

"Mhm."

His hand hovered above the lever for a moment before pushing it down. The ship crawled forwards. The gas giant grew until it filled the whole galaxy. A light on the control panel started blinking.

Mando waited for a couple of seconds before a disembodied voice filled the cockpit.

"The fuck you want?"

Sinead let out a giggle that only bordered on hysterical.

Mando cleared his throat. "I'm looking for Red Vekkass."

"Yeah? Well, you better turn round and piss off before I turn that piddly little bucket into space debris."

"I need to speak with Red Vekkass."

"Told you to fuck off-"

"My name is Sinead Cade." She hadn't even realized she had opened her mouth. It felt like someone had taken control of her brain. "I need to speak with Red Vekkass. I knew him before Loovria, and I've spent the last five years looking for him."

It felt almost wrong to say her name out loud like that. She was so used to aliases and convenient lies that baring herself felt ... sacrilegious in a way.

There was an awful silence that lasted for minutes. She held her breath.

Finally, a new voice came over the comm, deeper and more authoritative. "Roger that. Head for the hangar. One wrong move, and we'll blow you to stardust. Over and out."

For a moment, neither of them moved.

"I guess we just ..." Sinead trailed off. Her heart was pounding.

The ship started moving at a slow speed. Mando's hands danced across levers and buttons. If the station began firing, they would have to dodge at no notice. The pinprick grew into a proper station; it was shaped like a sphere and tapered out into a point just above Dilo’s swirling surface. Narrow walkways shot out from the lower part of the station where ships could dock. They were all empty now.

"You ready?" Mando asked.

"Yes." No. She had never been less ready in her entire life.

The Crest passed through the magnetic field that protected the hangar and touched down between many smaller ships. Through the window, Sinead saw a group move towards the ship, and she strained her eyes to see if Kyen was there. He wasn't. She counted eleven blasters between eight sentients.

The child was sleeping in his seat and didn't stir when Mando picked him up and carried him to the safe room. Sinead tried not to think about what would happen to him if they didn't come back.

The ramp had never moved slower. She was ready to jump out of her skin, while Mando stood still as a statue.

The posse held their weapons at the ready as Sinead and Mando came down. Had Kyen not told them who she was?

"I'm here to-"

"Yeah, we heard you on the comm," a hulking mass of a Nikto said, his voice so deep Sinead felt it reverberate in her chest. "Follow me. Don't try anything." He sneered at Mando, whose hands inched imperceptibly towards his blaster. Sinead tried to catch his eyes through the helmet and shook her head once. They could not afford to start a fight with a bunch of pirates. She had come too far to die so close to the goal.

A large Twi'lek with a gash across his forehead scowled at them.

Flanked by the pirates, they were led through the station. A sour smell of unwashed bodies made her stomach churn, and she felt like she really had to throw up. They passed rooms filled with weapons or cargo, tables strewn with bottles, and food left out to rot. How could he live like this? It didn't make any sense.

Mando kept bumping against her, his head darting around. If she had had any room in her brain left over, she would have noticed the tension coming off him in waves.

Finally, the Nikto stopped in front of a thick blast door.

"Boss' in there."

Sinead swallowed thickly.

This was it.

The door opened.

She stared.

Laughter bubbled up from deep in her chest with the sheer unreality of it all. Her brain desperately tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

"Sinead, what are you-"

"That's ... that's not Kyen."

Saying it out loud broke the spell, and she fell silent, a hollow feeling in her chest.

The man sitting in front of her was human, but that was where the similarities between him and Kyen ended. Where Kyen was tall and broad-chested, with a round freckled face and deep green eyes, this man was all sharp edges and wiry limbs, small eyes peering out from a gaunt face. A scar ran from the bridge of his nose across his forehead and disappeared into short dark hair. He sat on an ornate chair, just one gilded filigree away from being a throne.

"Who are you?"

He smirked at her. "You said so yourself. Not Kyen." He leaned back in his throne. "Name's Red Vekkass, but I know you already knew that."

"B-but how? Why ..."

"Sit down, and I'll-"

"No!"

Behind her, the pirates jumped, and one drew his blaster. A hand landed on her shoulder and pulled her back.

"Calm. Down," Mando hissed.

She took a deep breath. "I want to know why according to records on Loovria, your name is Kyen Beck."

His grin grew, flashing a row of yellowing teeth. "Funny story, that." He looked behind her and yelled at the top of his lungs, making her jump. "EVERYONE! GET THE FUCK OUT!"

The Nikto took a step forwards, glancing at Mando. "But Boss, don't you think-"

"Out. Now."

They filed out until only Mando and Sinead were left. The Nikto was the last to go, snarling at Mando as the door closed.

Vekkass crossed a leg over the other, silent for a long moment as he regarded them both. "I knew about you," he pointed a dirty finger at Sinead. "The Mandalorian is a surprise."

A scream tried to crawl up her throat, and she took a deep breath through her nose. "Why-" voice barely shaking- "do you ... or did you go by the name Kyen Beck."

"Knew him."

"When?"

"Sit." He gestured to a hard-backed chair. Now that she could focus on other things besides the man in front of her, she realized they were in what must have been the mess hall. Two long tables had been pushed against the wall to allow a sort of runway with the throne at the other end. She didn't remember walking across the floor.

She threw herself into one of the chairs, gripping the armrests to keep from launching across the room and throttling Vekkass. Mando remained stubbornly standing behind her.

Vekkass lit a cigarra and took a long drag. "Met him on a moon in the middle of nowhere. The Empire had us working in a mine-"

"He was on Celvalara!" It came out in a rush. It hadn't all been for nothing.

"You've been? My, my, what busy bees you are." A bit of ash fell from the tip of the cigarra. "But yeah, we were on Celvalara. Shared a bunk, if you can call two stone slates a bunk. You could say we were buddies, as much as slaves can be friends. I guess you know all about that." He grinned at her.

Sinead kept her face carefully neutral.

"Worked the mine together with all the other poor bastards. Dunno what for, but those bucketheads worked us like akk dogs. And through it all, Kyen wouldn't shut the fuck up about you."

A small nugget of warmth filled out some of the emptiness. Kyen felt closer than he had been these last five years.

"Don't know if you noticed, but the Empire wasn't doing too hot in those days. People heard things. Me and Kyen, we talked about escaping."

"Did you?" Mando said. Sinead had almost forgotten he was there.

"You could say that. The Empire had all but fallen to pieces when we got the chance."

"That still doesn't explain why records on Loovria-"

"Back when shit really hit the fan, me and Kyen and a couple of other guys stole a shuttle to the planet. Forget the name-"

"Luria," Sinead said in a carefully measured voice. Her nails dug into the wooden chair.

"Right, Luria. The bucketheads weren't too happy about us leaving, even though they hadn't heard word from command in days. We figured it was better to split in case the Empire suddenly got a mind to follow. Back then we didn't know the Empire had fallen." He took another long drag of his cigarra. "Got picked up by some New Republic cruisers out by Atravis. I've had a bit of fun in my youth, figured Beck wouldn't mind me borrowing his name for a spell. He seemed like a nice enough fella." Another yellow-teethed smile. "Seemed like the New Republic officers wanted to make a quick cred, so they dropped me off on Loovria instead of taking me in. The name sorta stuck, never really got the urge to correct them."

So all of this was because of a couple of New Republic assholes who'd rather make a few extra credits than protect the people they had sworn to help. Although Vekkass seemed more like someone to protect from.

"Honestly, never thought you'd come knocking. You're lucky I remembered your name, or else you'd be space dust right about now." He waved the cigarra through the air. "Was under the impression you were still stuck on Tatooine."

"Sriluur."

"Right." He watched her for a long time, head cocked to the side. "Didn't know palace slaves could even get married."

Behind her, Mando's hands balled into fists.

She shrugged. "What the boss don't know, the boss don't mind."

Vekkass let out a bark of laughter. "Guess that's true." He turned his eyes on Mando. "You, on the other hand, I've heard a couple of things about. Like how you ambushed my people on Alpha. What did you do to the kid?"

What kid? Sinead turned to look at Mando. She hadn't even asked what had gone down on the station, too caught up in her own stormy mind.

"He attacked me. Did what I had to do," Mando said flatly.

"I see. Doesn't really matter, was gonna get rid of him anyway, so I guess you spared me a headache." He watched them both, waiting for their reaction. Sinead had to suppress a shiver.

"When was the last time you saw Kyen?" Mando asked in the same emotionless voice.

"On Luria, as I said."

"You know where he was heading?"

There was a subtle gleam in Vekkass' eyes, "I might. First, I need you to do something for me."

Of-fucking-course.

"What?" Sinead said between clenched teeth.

"Need you to find someone who used to be a part of my crew."

"What did he do?"

Vekkass flicked the cigarra onto the floor where it lay smoldering. "I thought bounty hunters didn't care about that."

A tension headache had grown slowly from her temples until it felt like her head was stuck in a vice. "I'm not a bounty hunter."

"But he is. Looks like it, anyway." He looked Mando up and down. "He was supposed to meet up with the crew after a job. Problem is he never showed. And he had all the loot.

"You think maybe he got picked up by the New Republic?" Sinead said.

"That's what I assumed until I got word that he'd been spotted on Trillu. Not as dead or incarcerated as previously thought. I want you to find him, bring him back with whatever loot is left. Or kill him. I don't really care as long as I get what’s mine."

Sinead stopped herself from laughing out loud. She wouldn't be surprised if the clothes on his back had been pilfered off some poor bastard. "Why haven't you gone after him before?"

"Can't really spare the manpower, can I. Was about to send for a bounty hunter when you two fell into my lap."

"I'm not with the guild," Mando said.

"Does it matter? I don't care who you are, as long as you get it done. And when you come back, I'll tell you where Beck was headed."

Sinead bit down on the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to travel across the galaxy on the trail of another lost soul. Hopping from system to system, asking strangers for information, following breadcrumbs that only led to dead ends.

She just wanted Kyen.

"He's probably long gone by now." Mando's raspy voice acted as an anchor and tethered her to the moment.

Vekkass pulled a small object out of his pocket and threw it to Sinead. It was a tracking fob. Mando gently took it out of her hand.

"I'm sure finding one man won't be a problem. You've come this far," Vekkass said and sat up on his throne. It was clear the audience was over.

"What's his name, the man we have to find?" Sinead's voice sounded strangely dulled.

Vekkass paused for a moment, thinking it over. Then, "Jami something-or-other. Twi'lek. A slippery little devil, so your best bet is probably taking him by surprise. Otherwise, he might slip away, and then no Kyen for you." He grinned again, a strange jerk of the lips like a wild animal showing its teeth. Leaning to the side, he raised his voice. "Brex!"

The door shot open, and the Nikto came barreling in. "Yes, Boss?"

"We're done here. Take them back to their ship and let them leave." Vekkass gave Sinead a final look. "Good luck."

The walk back to the ship was done in complete silence. Sinead curled her hands into fists so hard her nails left half-moons on her palm. It was surreal boarding the Crest. It felt like they'd been gone for days.

The child still slept in the saferoom, and Sinead stopped to watch him while Mando climbed into the cockpit. The child's small face twitched in his sleep. She reached out and touched his hand that poked out between two folds in the fabric.

A vibration went through the ship when the engine came to life, and she left the child and crawled into the cockpit. The Crest was surrounded by pirates who watched with suspicious eyes as it rose from the platform.

"You think they're gonna let us go?" Sinead sat down in her seat.

"If they wanted to kill us, they would've already done it. I think Vekkass was being truthful. At least about that."

"Hm. It's somehow easier imagining Kyen as a pirate than me actively working for one."

The Crest soared through the blue electromagnetic field and was finally free, but the shadow of the mining station seemed to cling to it like an oil-spill.

"You know, we don't ... we don't have to do this." Mando didn't turn to look at her as he spoke.

"What's the other option? He knows where Kyen went after Celvalara."

"You trust him?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. Of course she didn't, but what did he want her to say? "Finding this guy can't hurt. As I see it, we're just getting rid of one more pirate the galaxy doesn't need." And helping another one in the process ...

Mando nodded once and flicked a row of switches, sending the ship hurtling into hyperspace. The blue light danced across Sinead's face. Suddenly, she felt impossibly tired, her heart a heavy lump in her chest. Relief that Kyen could still remain unsullied in her mind battled against nauseating guilt; when the door opened, and she saw it wasn't her Kyen sitting on the throne, she hadn’t been confused or saddened, but so relieved. Was her love really that conditional?

She bit down on the inside of her cheek, hard. Small bumps had formed where she had broken through the skin.

"How do tracking fobs work?" She grasped for anything that might distract her.

Mando leaned back in his seat. "The fob tracks via your chain code. The more digits, the more exact it is."

"How precise can it be? Can it point out the correct planet?"

"Planet, continent."

"Oh."

She stared out at the swirling mist.

Mando cleared his throat. When she looked at him, he had turned in his chair to face her. "After a bounty's been fulfilled, the information is dormant. You said the Hutts think you're dead. You have nothing to worry about."

It didn't feel like she had nothing to worry about. It felt like an entire Imperial armada was waiting for them just on the other side of hyperspace.

"Yeah, okay." Turning back to look at the mist, she wrapped her arms around her midsection in a poor excuse for a hug. She tried thinking back to Sriluur, where she and Kyen would sneak off to lie in the shade of the palace, but everything felt wrong and faded like she was looking through a dirty window.

She just wanted someone to hold her again.

There was a bump from the hull, and Mando got up, faltering when he looked at her. The blue light danced across his armor. "I'll just ... go check on him ..."

"Right."

She felt his hand accidentally brushed her shoulder as he passed her, then he was gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

<- Previous chapter - Next chapter ->

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x oc #mando x oc #din x oc #din djarin x oc #fanfiction #ends of the earth #oc: sinead #this isn't a new chapter #I just plum forgot to post it sorry D:

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max-is-tired · 5 years ago

Text

Magic Mirror (Mirror’s Magic) Chapter 1

Pairing: Romantic Royality

Characters: Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders, various OCs

Words: 5.002

Warnings: angst, blood, war, crying, magic, loneliness

Notes: Welp, here it comes! This is part of my fic for the TS Big Bang 2019! Or at least, it should have been -as I said, I haven’t quite managed to finish writing the whole thing, so I can’t post it all today. But I still wanted you guys to see it by the end of the month, so here we go, everyone hop on the angst train!! :D

Hit me up if you want to be added to the taglist and let me know if you liked this, reblogs, comments and asks are always very welcome and much appreciated! And if you would consider buying this broke college student a coffee (link in description) you’ll have my eternal gratitude and a thank-you ficlet of your choice, so there’s that.

(This story is heavily inspired by two Vocaloid songs. This chapter specifically is inspired by this cover of Rin’s Magical Mirror, by SirHamnet)

Commission me!!

Read on AO3

Go check @keuwibird‘s amazing art for this fic here!!!

First || Next

Sometimes, Patton finds himself dreaming of laughter and happiness, of sunny days and chirping birds. He dreams of a faraway land, untouched by war or famine, by misfortune or death.

He dreams and dreams and dreams, running through endless fields without a care in the world.

Those are the times when waking up hurts the most, when the memories fade away and all that remains is nothing but pain and an ache where his heart should be.

On days like those, it’s difficult to remain optimistic. Memories linger in the back of his mind, echoes of his old life filling the small wooden cottage he now calls his home.

On days like those, when Patton looks in the mirror, all he sees is a tired boy with blue, dull eyes staring back at him.

(Sometimes he wonders what his mother would say, if only she could see him now -his hair a mess, scrapes and dirt covering his body, his clothes reduced and nothing more than rags. She’d probably go full mother-hen on him, he muses with a small smile. Then he closes his eyes and shakes his head, locking those thoughts in some dark corner of his mind -he can’t think of her, of his family, of what he has lost and will never get back. If he does, he’s not sure he’ll be able to get back up again.)

Today, though, Patton can’t help but wish it was one of those days. He wishes his dreams could have been filled with bittersweet happiness, with long lost smiles, with the faces of those he had once loved most. Anything, but the memories of that cursed day.

An explosion, that’s how it starts.

Screams, yells, the clashing of swords and shields filling the halls of the castle, blood splattering to the ground as the enemy’s force advances inexorably.

“Mother! Father!” Patton screams, desperate, confused, afraid.

“Run, Patton! Quick, before they find you!”

And he does, heart thundering in his chest as he turns and bolts towards the secret passage behind the throne -he found it when he was five, when everything was well and war was something he only heard about in fairytales.

He runs without looking back, emerging in the forest behind his home and not stopping until he trips on a branch, tumbling to the ground with a startled shout.

Patton lays there for what feels like an eternity, staring at the sky as sobs rack through his body -searching for a reason, just one, for all this violence and hatred and blood plaguing his home and destroying everything in its path.

“Why?” he chokes out, tears rolling down his cheek.

The moon stares back at him, silent, and Patton feels something inside him break and crumble to a million pieces.

Patton shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the tears from escaping out. He can’t let himself fall down that rabbit hole, because he knows there’s a great chance he might do something stupid -like give in to despair and finally let himself rot away, all alone in that abandoned cottage in the middle of nowhere.

Taking in a steadying breath, Patton stands up and stretches his arms up, eyes sweeping on his surroundings.

He still remembers the state this cottage had been in when he’d first found it, crying and freezing in the middle of the night. Patton had basically passed out as soon as he had gotten inside, but once he’d woken up again, the light of the day had helped him better take in the place –it had been abandoned for a while already, clutter and dust filling the cottage and sending Patton into more than one sneezing fit.

He had spent the day cleaning and sweeping, trying to keep his mind off of everything –not that it had worked, in the end. Everything was still too fresh in his mind, the cries and blood and fire screaming endlessly in his head.

The first days had been… hard. After the first night, sleep had become its own hell. Between the nightmares, flashbacks, and loneliness, Patton had found himself hitting rock bottom hard and fast –sleep-deprivation and grief smashing and merging in his heart until all he could do was curl up on himself and let the tears fall.

Things had slowly gotten better though, mourning leaving the place to numbness, like a thick fog settling on his heart and never letting go. That had left too, with time –not completely, of course, he can still feel it creeping at the edge of his mind, but now it feels less like hopelessness and more like melancholy.

The cottage had become Patton’s home, the forest around him his entire world, the deer, squirrels and rabbits living in it his only companions. The war had kept raging in the distance, the only proof of its existence being the columns of smoke he would sometimes spot on the horizon or the occasional soldier passing through the woods –they somehow always missed the small cottage, blissfully unaware of the boy cowering inside of it with tears in his eyes and memories flashing in his head.

Almost a year has passed since the day Patton ran into the woods, and for the first time –despite the nightmares, despite the sadness and grief still dancing in his heart- there’s a tiny, sincere smile on his face as he lets the memories wash over him. Maybe, just maybe, he can finally start to move on.

Then, he lets his eyes sweep over the dusty mirror in the corner and lets out a shriek of surprise, ungracefully falling down the bed.

Patton blinks, eyes boring a hole through the wooden ceiling as he tries to make sense to what he’s just seen. He’s awake, right? He must still be dreaming, obviously, because Patton’s pretty sure that the boy who was staring back at him from the mirror a few seconds ago was, in fact, not him at all.

Patton frowns, pinching his arm and immediately after letting out a pained hiss. Nope, definitely not a dream. Then, what –or rather, who- did he just see, exactly?

Patton slowly gets up, nerves buzzing under his skin as he slowly approaches the mirror. Gulping, he moves to stand in front of it, eyes closed and heart beating wildly in his chest. He’s probably just being silly, he knows that. It was probably just a trick of the light, with the help of his still-half asleep brain. Now, he’s gonna open his eyes and all he’ll see will be his own reflection, same as every morning-

“So, are you ever going to show me those lovely eyes of yours?” comes a sudden voice from in front of him, drawing a surprised yelp out of Patton as he takes a few startled steps back. Eyes snapping open, Patton finds himself meeting the gaze of a boy who’s very much not him, white, red and golden robes flowing with a breeze he cannot feel as a pair of amused, forest green eyes stare back at him.

“There they are,” the boy chuckles, cocking his head to the side with a small smile, “I know I called them lovely mere seconds ago, but I have to admit that it doesn’t even come close to how breathtaking your eyes are. Only fitting for someone as stunningly beautiful as you, truly.”

Patton can distinctly feel his cheeks growing warmer by the second, wringing his hands in front of his chest as confusion, fear and a hint of curiosity clash and merge in his head.

“Who- Who are you?” he asks, his voice small and uncertain.

“You can call me Ro,” the boy says with a bow and a wink, the golden details of his robes catching on the sunlight coming from the open window, “I’m a magician, and wishes are my specialty. What about you, my dear?”

"I’m Prince P-” Patton starts, the familiar introduction already on the tip of his tongue, before catching himself, “ I’m Patton,” he finally says with a sad smile on his face, “just Patton. It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve never met a magician before.”

“Patton, mh?” the boy –Ro- hums, tentatively rolling the name on his tongue, “a name almost as gorgeous as you, my prince.”

That last part makes Patton look away, smile turning bitter on his lips despite the small blush still present on his cheeks. “I’m sorry, but… I’m not a prince. Not anymore, at least.”

“You sure about that?” Ro asks, a chuckle escaping his lips as Patton snaps his head towards him in surprise. “I told you, my job is to grant wishes. Just say the word, prince Patton, and everything you’ve ever wanted will be finally yours.”

“Wha- for real?!” Patton exclaims, excitement evident in his voice as he unconsciously leans towards the mirror. “You’re not lying?”

“Of course not, my dear,” Ro says with a grin, “after all, I’m a magician meant just for you.”

“For me…?” Patton whispers, slightly in awe, “but- why me? I’m just a prince without a kingdom, a coward who ran away and left everything behind, I’m sure there are so many other people in the world who could use a blessing like this far more than I ever could!”

Patton doesn’t notice it, but Ro flinches almost imperceptibly at his words, sadness and something else flashing in his gaze for a second before he conceals it behind a kind smile. “Trust me, Patton, there is no one else in this world who deserves it more than you.”

“Are- are you sure?”

“Positive, my heart,” Ro says, “now, Patton, tell me –what does your heart desire most?”

For a moment, Patton feels overwhelmed, a million possibilities stretching in front of him. What do you ask for when you can wish for every single thing your heart ever wanted?

Then, he thinks of war and blood, of sorrow and pain. He thinks of his family, his kingdom, of happiness and laughter echoing in the halls of the castle, and slowly places his hand on the mirror’s surface, gaze bordering on pleading as he looks up at the magician.

“What can I ask for?” he asks, a spark of something growing in his soul –it makes excitement flow through his veins and his heart beat wildly in his chest.

“I shall grant anything that you wish for-” Ro answers as he places his own hand in front of Patton’s, a charming smile on his face and eyes full of a million promises –for a single instant, just one, Patton can almost feel the ghost of a touch on the tip of his fingers, warmth traveling up from his palm to his chest- “so won’t you chant for me from the other side of the mirror?”

Patton lets a grin stretch out on his face, eyes sparkling in barely concealed delight. He feels like somewhere far, far away from that little cottage in the woods, the wheels and gears of fate have just started turning.

“I think I know what my first wish will be!”

The spark in his soul is starting to feel a little bit like hope.

+++

“Can I wish for everything to go back the way it was before the war?”

“Well, there’s no limit to what you can ask, but-” Ro’s gaze turns hesitant, doubt flashing in his eyes as he turns his head to the side- “time is… tricky. It’s powerful, ancient, more than magic itself. Messing with it is dangerous, my heart. If I grant that kind of wish, you need to be aware –not even I can fully anticipate what the end result may come out to be.”

Patton’s smile dims but doesn’t disappear. “That’s alright,” he hums, nodding, “I can work with that.”

+++

“I wish for the war to stop.”

After Patton makes his first wish, Ro gives him a warning –he can fulfill it no problem, but it won’t be an immediate change. He’s a powerful magician, yes, but things like this don’t happen overnight. To see the results, they need to be patient.

“That’s okay!” Patton says, smiling at the young magician. “If it means the war will end, then I’ll wait for as long as it takes.”

Ro nods, smiling in response, and waves his hands in the air, foreign words slipping out of his mouth as red sparks fly around him –Patton can almost feel the moment the magic happens, like a switch being turned as something new clicks into place in the fabric of the universe.

After that, they wait –but not for long.

The news arrives around a week later, in the form of a caravan passing through the woods, bringing to the people of the kingdom the joyous news of a peace treaty finally being signed between the two fighting forces. They don’t see Patton, as it always happens, but Patton sees and hears them, a grin stretching on his face as he sprints back into the cottage.

“Thank you thank you thank you!!” he yells as he hugs the mirror, tears streaming down his face –for the first time in a long while, they’re tears of joy, heart bursting with happiness in his chest as the realization that this awful nightmare is finally over dawns upon him.

“There’s no need to thank me, Patton,” Ro says, a soft smile on his face, “it’s your wish that did this.”

Patton sniffs, shaking his head. “But your magic is what made it possible in the first place! Without it, this might have never happened. I- goodness, I don’t think there are enough words to express how grateful I am, you- I’m-”

Tears blur Patton’s already foggy eyesight, the occasional sobs making it difficult for him to keep talking. Inside the mirror, Ro’s smile turns softer still, murmured words slipping from his lips as his magic takes the form of a gentle red wisp. With a wave of the magician’s hand, the wisp flies out of the mirror towards Patton’s face, softly caressing his cheeks.

Patton gasps at the sensation, letting out a startled laugh as he feels the magic tenderly wipe away the falling tears.

“Awwww!” he coos, watching the red wisp fly in the air around him and rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. The magic feels playful as it glides around, wiggling as zipping through the air and messing Patton’s hair up. The boy lets out a giggle, tears forgotten as he spins around to follow its path.

“Your smile shines more brightly than a thousand suns, my prince,” Ro says, smile so soft and gaze so earnest it makes something warm spread in Patton’s chest. “Happiness looks amazing on you. I can only be humbled by having been able to bring something so beautiful to the world.”

“Oh, shut it, you flatterer,” Patton grins, gaze focusing on the red wisp of magic still flying through the air of the cottage as his cheeks burn a pretty shade of red.

“Is it flattery if I’m only saying the truth?”

The way Patton’s eyes widen and his cheeks bloom an even brighter shade of red makes Ro only want to compliment him more, a boisterous laugh escaping his mouth as he watches the boy sputter and wave his arms around in embarrassment.

Distantly, he wonders how long has it been since someone told Patton how beautiful he is.

+++

“I wish for my parents to be alive and well.”

News of its beloved king and queen’s fates travels through the kingdom rather quickly, moving from village to village as the story of their imprisonment by enemy forces reaches even the farthest border in less than a week. The news of their freeing thanks to the treaty makes even the poorest farmer rejoice, making the realization finally sink in even for the most skeptical: the war has finally ended.

They’re free.

Festivities run rampant in the kingdom, people working on rebuilding what was destroyed and mourning what was lost. The royal family works hard to give its wounded kingdom and people what they need to put themselves back on their feet and finally start working towards recovery, but both the queen and king are also mourning the loss of their son, the prince, whose fate no one seems to know.

Their pain is short-lived, though. As soon as the news reaches his ears, Patton basically sprints out of the cottage and into the woods, jumping branches and zipping through the trees with the expertise only someone who has grown to know the forest like the back of their hand can have.

He doesn’t slow down even as he runs through the capital and people call for him with startled shouts and surprisingly delighted yells, his blonde hair and blue eyes impossible not to recognize. He doesn’t slow down as he passes through the gate of the royal castle, the guards too stunned to think of stopping him, or as he dashes through the familiar hallways of his old home, his quick steps and heavy breathing bouncing on its still crumbling walls as he makes his way towards where he hopes his parents will be.

Patton only stops when he not-so-gently barges into the throne room, where his parents and what remains of the royal council seem to be discussing something important –not that it matters too much, the king and queen immediately dropping everything as soon as their eyes land on Patton.

The prince stares at them, panting and sweating, before something between a sob and a wail leaves his lips and his legs push him forward once more.

His parents meet him in the middle, his mother enveloping him in a crushing hug as tears fall freely down both of their faces. Patton feels his father’s strong arms enveloping them both, his laugh resonating in the room as he lifts them both and starts spinning them around the room.

Patton’s delighted laugh mixes with his mother’s, happiness exploding in his chest like a million fireworks, and he wonders how will he ever be able to repay Ro for all he’s been doing for him.

(Over the throne room, hidden by the shadows of the crumbling ceiling, a familiar red wisp of magic zips through the air, watching over the reunited family.)

(Far away from the castle, inside a little cottage in the woods, Ro looks through the wisp at Patton’s smile and lets his own tug at his lips, in stark contrast with the fresh tears falling down his cheeks. Quiet happiness and raging sadness clash and collide in his chest, squeezing his heart like a million vines, and he gives himself a moment to just let himself feel, pain and guilt running rampant in his soul with the silence of the woods as his only companion. Then, he steels himself once again, wiping away the tears with the edge of his sleeves. After all, there’s still some work to do.)

+++

“I wish for our resources to be enough to feed our people and rebuild our kingdom, for sickness to not touch us, for famine to be far away from our land.”

Our land is strong and fertile, most say as the earth keeps giving and resources never dim.

It’s a miracle, the people whisper as the sick and frail all recover and get back on their feet.

It’s a blessing, the kingdom cries as what was destroyed gets rebuilt and all traces of the war slowly disappear.

No, Patton thinks as his home flourishes one again in front of his eyes, tears prickling at his eyes and a knowing smile on his lips, this is magic.

+++

During his first night back in the castle, after reuniting with his parents in the throne room, Patton tells them about his escape through the forest, about the little cottage in the woods and the year of loneliness he went through. He tells them about the woods that had grown to be his home, about the animals that had kept him company even in the darkest of nights, about the river flowing just a few feet behind the house and those little bushes who were incredibly difficult to find, but bore the sweetest of berries.

What he doesn’t tell them about, is the mysterious magician living inside the mirror, the young boy with twinkling green eyes and a dizzying smile who has given Patton so much and asked for nothing in return.

Not that he doesn’t want to! It’s just… he doesn’t even know how to start explaining everything and besides, his dad has never been too fond of magic and Patton doesn’t want to make him worry or worse, have a fight with him –not now that they’ve just reunited, not after a year believing he would never see his parents again.

So he keeps Ro’s existence to himself, holding this little secret tight to his chest as he tells them about the dusty, old mirror sitting in the corner of the cottage, about how he got attached to it and he would really like to have it with him, in his chambers at the castle.

His parents are more than a little confused by his request, if not somewhat suspicious. Patton doesn’t miss the wariness flashing in his father’s eyes, the way his expression turns into a pensive frown as he shares an uncertain glance with his wife. For a moment, he fears they’ll call out his bluff and demand an explanation, press and press until the truth comes out –he fears they’ll take the mirror away, forbid him from seeing Ro ever again.

But that doesn’t happen, the wariness replaced by soft sighs and a nod. They may not understand, but that mirror seems to be really important for their son –that’s a more than enough reason for them to grant his wish.

And so here he is, not even two months after his first wish has been granted, sitting in his room as he giggles at something Ro has said. They’re both happy, grins stretching on their faces as laughter fills the atmosphere around them.

There’s something burning in Patton’s chest, a feeling that sparked to life when he met those deep, green eyes for the first time and only grew with every grin, every laugh, every quiet moment shared in that little cottage in the woods.

It feels like amber flames licking at his soul, like warmth spreading through his body, like butterflies in his stomach and happiness in his heart.

It feels like love, and it makes Patton’s heart ache and yearn like nothing else.

+++

“Are you happy, Patton?” Ro asks sometime later, startling the prince out of his thoughts.

“Of course I am!” Patton says, clearly confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You looked… distant, for a second,” Ro explains, searching for the words to best describe what he means, “melancholic, I’d say.”

Patton blinks, taken aback. “Oh,” he says, because how do you respond to something like that when he hasn’t even noticed it himself?

“Is there…” Ro tentatively begins, hesitant in his question as he gives the other a questioning glance, “is there maybe another wish you want me to fulfill for you? You know I won’t mind, right? It’s the reason I came to you, after all.”

Patton thinks about the surge of warmth he feels every time he looks at Ro, about the dreams filling his nights and those wishes he hasn’t shared even with the boy he now calls his best friend. He thinks about the arms he wishes could surround him, about the hands he wishes he could hold and the smile he wishes he could kiss.

Then, he smiles, shaking his head.

“As long as you’re with me, there’s nothing else I could ever wish for.”

(Little does Patton know, that’s the moment Ro feels his heart shatter in his chest.)

+++

The last six months have felt like something straight out of a fairytale for Patton, like the ones his mother used to tell him when he was a kid, just before tucking him in bed and kissing his hair, before sleep overtook him and dreams filled his head.

Patton feels like he’s finally found he prince of his dreams –he sees him every time a pair of forest green eyes meet his gaze, every time white, red and golden robes glint behind the surface of the old mirror in the corner of his room, every time red wisps of magic fill the air and a dazzling grin makes his heart race in his chest.

But like every story his mother told him, even this one has to reach his ending.

And this time, there’s no happy ending in store for him.

+++

“… What?”

Ro gives him a sad smile, eyes melancholic as he repeats one more time those four cursed words.

“I have to go, Patton.”

“But… where? Why??” Patton asks, clearly taken aback, “when will you be back?”

Ro shakes his head, looking away. “I won’t, my prince.”

“No…” Patton whispers, before throwing himself toward the mirror and placing his hands on the glass, “no, please! You can’t leave just yet, not like this.”

“Patton, please-”

“No!” he yells, tears flowing down his cheeks, “I refuse to say goodbye- I won’t!”

Ro looks on the verge of tears, eyes wet and sad as he puts his hands in front of Patton’s –for a second, they’re back at the beginning, in that little cottage in the woods where Ro smiled at Patton and everything changed forever. For a second, they both find themselves wishing they could go back to that single, magical moment.

Sadly, this is one wish Ro cannot make come true.

“Please-” Patton begs, voice breaking as sobs rack through his body- “please, don’t leave my side.”

Ro shakes his head, his own tears falling down his cheeks as his smile turns downright heartbroken.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, leaning his forehead on the mirror, “I’m so sorry, Patton.”

“Why?” Patton asks, desperate.

“Because if I don’t, then it will all have been for nothing.” Ro answers, “because if I stay, I will only hurt you, and I can’t bear the mere thought of it.”

“You’re hurting me by going away!” Patton argues and yeah, maybe it’s petty and unfair and absolutely, utterly selfish, but he can barely bring himself to care. if it means Ro will stay, then he’s ready to do almost anything. “Please, I can’t- I can’t lose you. Please.”

He can see the resolve breaking in Ro’s eyes, the heartbroken expression taking over the magician’s face as he seems to be physically restraining himself from breaking down completely.

“Patton, if I stay, everything will go back to how it was before.” Ro finally reveals, gaze falling to his feet as his arms wrap around his waist in a desperate attempt to hold himself together. “All your wishes, all the good and happiness they brought… it’ll all disappear, forever. I can’t let that happen, Patton, I can’t be the cause of your despair. Not again.”

It’s Patton’s turn to fall silent now, tears still falling down his cheeks as he registers Ro’s words.

“What?” he whispers, taken aback. “Not again? You’ve never hurt me, Ro, what are you talking about?”

This time, Patton doesn’t miss the way Ro tenses at his words, arms tightening around his waist as he hunches on himself and shakes his head -as if trying to physically protect himself from something buried deep inside his mind.

Still confused, the prince stares as Ro takes in a few deep breaths, slowly straightening his back as he appears to steel himself –for what, Patton doesn’t know, and a little, frightened voice inside himself whispers that he really, really doesn’t want to find out.

“I was scared,” Ro finally whispers, eyes still fixed to the ground, “I was scared, alone, and so, so tired. Everything was crumbling, my life, my home… I just wanted it all to stop. When he arrived, he gave me someone to blame, someone to be angry at –and like a fool, I believed him.”

When Ro finally looks up, his eyes are red and puffy, fresh tears streaking down his cheeks. “I was selfish, I was greedy, and because of that I hurt you in ways I will never forgive myself for.” He lets out a melancholy chuckle, lips stretching into a bittersweet smile. “Everything that I gave, was only given to repay. You showed me a side of life I would have never dreamed to see –your kindness and love will always, always inspire me to do better, be better.”

With a wave of Ro’s hand, a familiar wisp of red magic leaves the mirror, flying to Patton’s face and tenderly wiping away his tears. “I will never forget your smile, your laugh, that twinkle in your eyes you get when something makes you happy. And I won’t forget your tears, your sorrow, even if they break my heart –so that I’ll never make the same mistakes again.” His expression morphs then, sadness momentarily leaving the place to tenderness as his gaze turns fonder still. “May I ask for one last promise, my heart?”

Patton wants to shake his head, vehemently say that no, he won’t promise anything because Ro can’t go, not yet, not now that all Patton wishes for is to have him by his side forever –as his consultant, as his best friend, as his soulmate.

And yet, he doesn’t, doing his best to keep his sobs at bay as he gives Ro a small, shaky nod.

“Keep me in your memories, my sunshine, and think of me, once in a while. But never with sadness or grief. Think of me as you would of an old friend, with fondness and maybe love, if you believe me worthy of it.”

Ro smiles, bowing at Patton as cracks start to appear on the surface of the mirror.

“I love you, prince Patton. Goodbye.”

Crash!

#sanders sides #royality #patton sanders #roman sanders #patton angst #roman angst #(more in the next chapter eheheheheheh)#angst #angst with a happy ending #crying #blood mention #war #magic #magic mirror au #fanfiction #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #maxiswriting

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sick-raven · 5 years ago

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Ghosts of the Present - Chapter 1

Batman fanfiction

Characters: Jonathan Crane, OC - Miranda Bradbury, Bruce Wayne, John Constantine, Jervis Tetch, Edward Nygma, Clayface, Ra’s al Ghul, Waylon Jones

About: Miranda Bradbury has gotten her life together with help of magic and Jonathan Crane. Now everything seems to go well in her life - she is happy and loved. But as it goes, happiness cannot continue forever. The League of assassins comes in Gotham and Miranda has new reason to fear for her life. Add Jonathan's constant paranoia to the mix, and you get one life-wrecking cocktail.

Author’s note: This story takes place roughly two months after Ghosts of the Past. Without that story it will hardly make sense, so read that one first.

Fair warnings: NSFW, violence, dubcon, less porn than last time, story full of miscommunications

Status: Finished, will post next chapters when in mood.

AO3

Chapter 1

Jonathan found Miranda standing at the window as many times before. As many times before, she looked at him with a faint smile and shook her head. So, he didn’t ask. It’s been two months since her nightmares started. As if the happiness she felt when the ghosts were finally locked up opened door to worse things.

First time she woke up next to him, she scared him. In the middle of the night, with a shout. She was shaking, cold sweat dripping of her face and Jonathan would swear he saw tears. Miranda never cried.

“Are you okay?” Jonathan asked. He had his fair share of nightmares back in the day. Murder of crows. Murder of granny. Her corpse stalking him, telling him he is dirty. That he should be pure in front of God. She will purify him.

He always felt like shit after.

“Yeah,” Miranda would answer massaging her ribs. “Just a nightmare.” Then she would leave to the living room. First few times he went after her and hugged her until the shaking stopped. Later he stayed in bed. He didn’t give up on her.

“It’s not worth it, Jonathan. Get some sleep.”

So, he didn’t comment on it today either. He just made her tea and went about his business. Miranda never told him what haunts her in the dreams and Jonathan didn’t pry. He would hate it, if she did it to him.

Miranda finally joined him at the table.

“Good morning.”

“Is it?” he responded.

“Better. I’m getting used to it. In no time, I will sleep like a baby,” she joked. She always joked when she was lost. That was one of her talents. Another one was she asked for help only when she was truly desperate. Normal things were okay, she always came to him with jar of pickles, as if she wasn’t the muscle in their relationship, but it looked like anything connected to ghosts or her past she grabbed and pulled in. She suffocated it inside herself like a dead rat rotting in her soul. Jonathan felt as if she was more open before Constantine grabbed her ghosts by the neck. The charm bound the ghosts and also Miranda’s tongue. Or maybe he imagined it. Maybe she never was truthful.

“That’s good,” he answered.

Jonathan hated this situation. First, he was psychiatrist. Talking to people was his job. Why was it so hard now? All he needed was to ask what was bothering her. Try to clarify. Sometimes just talking about it can shun away the trouble. Dreams weren’t that difficult to fix. Yet, he couldn’t get himself to try.

Second, he felt useless. He tried to help Miranda before and, in the end, she ran to get help elsewhere. Is this why she doesn’t ask anymore? He is not good enough, he understands mind, not magic. If the ghosts are acting up, he might never know. She would go after that face-stealing freak in trench coat who… who was able to help her, unlike useless Crane.

And third, he was worried. If she was still haunted, no telling what she will do. Her brain was interesting mix of patience, intelligence and blindness. One day she will get killed because she will act out in rush. Another shock like that he wouldn’t stand.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he tried.

Miranda, biting her thumb, looked surprised. Then smiled. “I think we should talk about more important things. Are we going formal or formal tonight?”

Very well, he will follow her wishes.

“Armed, but in all politeness.”

“Masks?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t wait,” she grinned. She’s been excited about tonight for a week. Jonathan didn’t understand the appeal, but he was happy to see her smile again.

“Just remember you are a bodyguard,” he reminded her.

“I will not embarrass you in front of the Legion,” she replied.

“Thank you.”

Miranda smiled into her cup. “Sorry I’m a mess. I promise I will get my shit together.”

“I don’t doubt that. Just know I am here to help.”

“Never forgot.”

Somehow, he doubted it.

***

Miranda never doubted Jonathan would hear her out, but what would that help against the reoccurring memory that woke her every night? It wasn’t even one of the worst ones, yet it made her tremble and cry.

Crying was so freeing after emotionless years and yet it made her feel ridiculous. She locked away the bastards, she nearly overdosed on Jonathan’s medication and it snapped something inside her. No more following the League’s training, no more closing herself down. With pain in her heart she let emotions free and… She felt once again. Feeling…

Miranda was sure feelings unlocked her nightmares.

Five or six, that’s how old she was when this happened. The dream showed her scenes, but she remembered more vividly. Every time she woke from it her memory jogged and filled the gaps the dream left uncovered. It eased it and made it worse at the same time as her mind started racing, not allowing her to go back to sleep.

Little girl ran from the kitchen holding a piece of bread she stole. She climbed out of window and aimed up. Roof was the only place she felt safe at. Nobody ever looked for her there. Cold wind and snow were hitting her face as she was getting higher.

Shouting in the house let her know she will be spanked or worse when they find her. But any punishment is fine as long as you face it with full stomach, that’s what she learned. Yelling, beating, the ugly fat fuck and his whips, none of that hurt as bad as starving.

Feeling like a winner she reached the top of the house. Warm feeling in her chest, happy she got away with it again. She wasn’t good for nothing spawn, she could take care of herself!

Master stood there, waiting with cold stare in her brown eyes. Her short black hair showed first signs of grey and that made her look even more strict. The girl froze, her throat stiffened, the fear ran through her spine. Feeling of victory was gone.

“Unbelievable,” said the master in calm voice that she used before punishments. “You are stupider than I thought, girl.”

Master kicked the girl in the face.

The cold surface of roof slipped through girl’s fingers.

Miranda was falling.

She woke up with a scream and loud crack noise in her ears.

You cannot fight memories, you just have to let them weaken. The impact will disappear in time. A question still hoovered over her. How was it so significant that it made her doubt? Just because of this memory she hurt again. Not only herself but also Jonathan. She had ton of memories that shook her bones even awake. Why the fall?

“Stupid girl can’t figure it out, as I expected,” she heard voice of master in her head.

“I would love it if you shut the fuck up,” Miranda answered.

“What?” asked Terry.

Miranda sighed annoyed over herself. “Sorry, just arguing with the voices in my head.”

Terry shook their head. They got used to Miranda’s occasional weird behaviour. She always talked to herself when she thought nobody is looking and sometimes it slipped in front of other people. “Have you considered shrink, boss?” Terry suggested while putting stuffed bears into the shelf.

“Yes.”

“I mean normal one, not your boyfriend.”

“You are on thin ice, Terry.”

“Sorry, just looking after you.”

Miranda stayed quiet, she didn’t want to snap at Terry. After the rough start they got along well. Terry relaxed a bit, Miranda even invited them for dinner at her place. That turned out to be horrible idea, because Jonathan used it as an excuse to interrogate Terry. Person tries to kill you once and he won’t let it go!

“Just poke me when I get lost in thoughts again,” Miranda said.

“Can do. Hey, boss. Would you mind if I took Saturday off?”

Miranda frowned. “Why?”

“I might have a date, if you let me.”

Saturday was the worst possible day. Miranda needed to be someplace else. “Can’t you do Friday?”

“No, sorry.”

Miranda sighed and waved her hand. “But you have to work twice as much today, get it?”

“Thanks, boss!”

“And give me their name so I can make sure they are good for you.”

“No way,” smiled Terry and Miranda relaxed a bit. World was running as it should have. Her stupid nightmares cannot ruin what she built. There is nothing to fear but fear itself, that’s what Jonathan taught her. Saturday was far enough, she will figure something out.

Now she just has to focus on her evening.

***

“Remember, just a bodyguard,” Jonathan reminded her as they were getting ready to go for the big meeting. Miranda made sure her weapons were well conceived. Getting accused of potentially trying to kill your co-workers was not on the list tonight.

“You say it like last time it was my fault. It takes two to rodeo, you know,” she replied.

“Therefore, I expect you will be the reasonable one today.”

Miranda grinned. Sky will fall before Jonathan accepts any mistake. Even though – could they call it a mistake? Embarrassment for sure, but nothing bad happened!

“I doubt Legion of Doom meeting will have alcohol.”

“Can we not discuss this now?”

Jonathan was awkward about it while Miranda thought it was hilarious. Long story short, two weeks ago there was a party at Iceberg Lounge. Even there Miranda went as a bodyguard. This created one big gossip – Jonathan was always a solo player and now he needs a bodyguard? The worst was Edward Nygma, or, as Gotham called him, the Riddler. The whole evening he walked around Jonathan with stupid comments.

“Has Scarecrow kidnapped a girlfriend?” “Johnny Boy has to pay?” “That potato sack sure brings ladies in.” “Riddle me this, who is scary virgin?”

Miranda was ready to slice his throat, but Jonathan stopped her with the calmest look possible. “It’s okay. Edward stoops to insulting when he runs out of riddles a five-year-old could solve.”

That ended up with both men bickering like two little kids. And then drinking vodka as a peace offering, as they set their differences aside with: “I like your girlfriend,” and: “Your riddles aren’t stupid.” Miranda joined them during fifth or sixth shot, because they insisted the lady cannot fall behind. Arguably, she was the most sober one and she also remembered the most.

Long story shorter – Jonathan and Miranda got pissed drunk and ended up making out by the entrance to the Lounge so pretty much everyone saw them. That finished Jonathan’s tries to take it easy, stay secret, don’t embarrass each other in front of other rouges.

Good thing he didn’t remember the fact they hid in janitor’s closet for a quickie and when they left, Nygma was leaning on an ash tray by the toilets, shitfaced, clapping slowly.

At least he stopped joking around. Miranda wondered whether he remember more than Jonathan. Erasing all security cameras feed next day was the best thing she could do anyways.

So, yes, they should definitely avoid doing this at Legion of Doom meeting.

“Legion meets only so often. If someone needs professional help, a team of specialists. Anyone can find henchmen, but sometimes you need bigger guns. Not anyone can summon the meeting, just few members have that power,” Jonathan explained to her when he got the invitation.

“Do you?”

“Oh no, I am low level. B-list villain, if you will.”

“For me you will always be A league.”

She loved how he smirked at compliments.

So, today was the big day. As they rode in elevator, Miranda got a bit nervous. She’s heard a lot about Legion of Doom. They were villains allied against Justice League. When they did something, it was huge. Who will they meet there? Joker? Luthor? Some other cool guy?

The elevator door opened into a small conference room. Miranda lost her breath. She expected big but not this big.

At the table sit giant man covered in scales. His face was deformed, jaws with sharp teeth covered in blood as if he just returned from lunch and the lunch was live chicken.

Jonathan paid no attention to that abomination. He sat at the table. Miranda followed his example and she stood beside him scanning the rest of the room. Except for giant… crocodile?... there were several of Gotham’s worst. She didn’t recognize everyone – there was Poison Ivy, she looked as if she didn’t want to be here. And Edward Nygma, he smiled and winked at Jonathan when they entered, but he didn’t say a word. The rest of people she didn’t know. There was this small guy in a top hat whose eyes frantically looked around the room. Another one was very plain woman – something Miranda aimed to be, invisible for naked eye. Uninteresting. Maybe they were unknown bodyguard and henchmen like she was. Or they didn’t cause mayhem while she lived in Gotham. Miranda wasn’t here long enough to read about every B-list jerk.

They all sat there in silence for good twenty minutes. Finally, Nygma couldn’t take it anymore.

“Does anyone know who summoned us here?” he said in annoyed tone of voice. “I have more important matters than to sit here.”

“No,” answered Poison Ivy. “Invitation came in normally.”

“Do friends want some tea?” asked the top hat man.

“I don’t have time for this,” grumbled the crocodile man. “I’m hungry!”

“Biscuits?”

“I will bite your head off!”

“Calm down, Waylon. Let’s give it five more minutes,” decided Jonathan.

“In five minutes I will eat your face, crow man!”

“I want to see you try, Croc. I will make you shake and cry like a toddler.”

“Everybody just wait it out,” the uninteresting woman said. “Waiting is part of the big play, to see if we are worth it.”

“Screw that,” Nygma smirked.

Do you see that, Miranda? That’s why bad guys work alone. Only crazy people would force them to cooperate. Jonathan is not insane, if something stupid is suggested, he won’t take it, right? She couldn’t imagine working with neither of these. Maybe Poison Ivy, but her hate towards humans would make the cooperation impossible. She just sat there, arms folded, didn’t join the arguing. Miranda would love to have her indifference right now. Legion of Doom seemed more like Legion of Fools.

The clock was ticking, and it already seemed like they will just give up and leave, when the elevator dinged, and the door opened.

Miranda nearly screamed. It took every muscle and brain cell to force herself to stay calm. Don’t run! Don’t move a fucking muscle, Miranda! shouted voice in her head.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! shouted the other voice.

And between them the master chuckled like some sort of Bond villain.

A man walked in the room. The bickering stopped and everyone was watching him. He stood at the table and looked at every attendant there. Miranda stopped breathing when their eyes met. I will die!

But he continued looking around as if Miranda was just regular part of the room. Just another piece of furniture. Boring.

Calm down, Miranda. He has no idea who you are.

She knew exactly who he was though.

Ra’s al Ghul. The Demon’s head. The leader of the League of assassins.

Miranda looked at Jonathan. He didn’t seem phased by the entrance of one of the most dangerous men alive at all. Frankly, she never told him what organization she used to be part of, but he should also freak out. Everyone should cry for mercy! How are they so calm?

“Finally,” said Edward. “I thought we will die here of boredom.”

What the fuck, Nygma!? Do you want to die!? You should kneel and hope he will not chop your head off!

Calm your tits, Miranda!

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

“I apologize for the lateness. Gotham traffic is disgusting, just like this city,” said the Demon’s head. “I will not hold you much longer. I have a job for each of you.”

“Is this job worth calling Legion of Doom meeting?” questioned the plain lady.

“It requires work of you all. It will move the foundation of the city itself. Of course, you will be rewarded if glory and change isn’t on your bucket list. If you mind.” He handed out envelopes to each of them. Jonathan opened his. Miranda felt the need to look over his shoulder. Just a bodyguard! She didn’t do it.

Nygma chuckled. “How do you want to compensate us for this?” he waved the paper. “I’m not your soldier, I am not suicidal.”

“Read it all before asking any questions,” said Ra’s.

With shit-eating grin Nygma read the rest of the letter. His eyes followed the lines of text and lower he got, the more shocked his expression grew.

“What is this shit?” growled Waylon.

“Your task and your reward,” Ra’s stated the obvious. “I am sure you all know what I am offering. No secret stays safe in Gotham. I need your answer now.”

“I’m in,” said Jonathan without a second to think about it. Miranda bit her lip under the mask. In!? He will cooperate with the Demon’s head!? Is he really insane!?

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

“Me too,” agreed Nygma. “I will show him for the last time.”

One after one the rogues agreed to help Ra’s al Ghul. Even the giant crocodile grinned big, his teeth slimy like a fish. “I like easy jobs.”

And Miranda stood there not ready to die.

***

The world was in mist. Miranda’s mind blank. She had no idea how they left the lair or how she got to Jonathan’s place. As if the body wasn’t hers and some outside force was leading her steps.

“So, what do you think about the Legion? Did it fulfil your expectations?”

Miranda blinked.

And ran to the bathroom to throw up

Next chapter

#batman #fanfiction #jonathan crane #writeblr #writing #ghosts of the present #sick raven writing #I just wanted to put Legion of Doom somewhere #so I did

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thekillingquill · 7 years ago

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The Birthday Showcase

CREDIT FOR THIS AWESOME BIRTHDAY GRAPHIC TO @jugheadxreaderinyourhead (I’m so sorry I let this publish without saying how much I love and appreciate that you did this for me).

It’s my birthday today and I’m going to be away from my computer to be with my very favourite person (’sup Daddy). I thought it would be nice to give you all a little gift today! Below is a list of upcoming fics with a summary and a small sneak peak. There are 8 upcoming fics under the cut. One fic was excluded because it’s so sad.

Tell me which one you’re most excited for in a message!

Set a Fire in My Head - Jughead x OC (Standalone)

Summary: Jughead quiets her mind, but when the relationship ends she spirals out of control.

Sneak Peak:

There was so much noise in my head before Jughead came along.

It started when I was four or five years old as a whisper saying I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t. As I got older, the voice became louder and began to say other things: I’m not good enough, a failure, a burden, so stupid, fucking unlovable. It itched at my brain, scratched at my heart, and kept spinning tales of terror to keep me up at night.

Worry wrapped its arms around me and refused to let go. Why did I do that? Why did I say that? How can I fix this mistake? What will happen to me if my parents die? What if everything I’ve ever known fell away? What would it be like if things could just be quiet?

There were times where I could get the voices to be quiet on my own like when I immersed myself in a book or a movie. Or when I would take a medication that made me drowsy. But all Jughead had to do was sit next to me to chase the voices away.

Hateship/Loveship - Reggie x @tasteofswallowedwords (Standalone, Not Another Tragic Backstory spinoff)

Summary: Ash has one rule: no boyfriends. Reggie prides himself on being a bit of a rule-breaker. The origin of the on and off again couple from Not Another Tragic Backstory!

Sneak Peak:

Ash had one rule for high school: no serious boyfriends. It was a rule that was well publicized on the first day of Freshmen orientation when Archie Andrews asked her to get a milkshake after school.

“No offense, Ginger Jesus, but you look like a commitment trap and I’m not looking for a boyfriend.” It was the moment that Reggie became infatuated, which didn’t go unnoticed by Moose.

It was the beginning of their Hateship/Loveship, because Ash steadfastly refuses to use the term relationship as it pertains to meathead jock, Reggie Mantle.

Practical Magic - Jughead x OC (Multi-Chapter Fic)

Summary: He won’t be a prince, but he’ll wear a crown. He’ll write true crime novels and sleep under a canopy of stars. PracticalMagicAU where Sabrina Spellman is love obsessed and her cautious cousin will do anything to avoid the family curse.

Sneak Peak:

There is a rotting branch on the Spellman family tree, and it’s the Foster line. Over a hundred years ago, my great-great-great something rather fell in love with the wrong man (married = wrong) and the townspeople accused her of witchcraft (well, they weren’t wrong). She was set to be executed, but the execution failed (witchcraft!!!). The town sent her to exile, but she had faith that her lover would follow. Spoiler alert: he did not. Of course, this tragedy wouldn’t be complete without a pregnancy.

So let’s break this down for you. My great-great-great something = an exiled adulterer and a pregnant teenaged witch. Her unnamed lover = a cowardly piece of shit. My ancestor might be the inspiration behind the “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” quote. Instead of crying it out and moving on, she straight up cursed the family. No man would be able to fall in love with a Foster woman without meeting a tragic end.

This is essentially the version of the story that my cousin Sabrina told me. She was the first person to tell me this story, and I didn’t believe her. Then my dad got clipped by a messenger bike while on a business trip in New York and fell in front of a cab.

Date My Dad - Fred Andrews x OC (Length TBD)

Summary: Archie and Jughead think it’s about time that Fred moved on. Together they try to find the perfect partner for him, not realizing that she could be closer than they think.

Sneak Peak:��

I knew that Archie Andrews and Jughead Jones were up to no good the moment they sat at the counter in Pop’s instead of their usual booth with the rest of their Sad Breakfast Club gang. They were engrossed in a purple flyer and their conversation was quickly growing heated, but stopped the moment I made my way towards them to take their order.

They both flashed me their most innocent smiles, but I was impervious to all of their tricks by now.

“Do I want to know?” I had asked teasingly. Jughead looked at Archie with wide eyes, motioning with quick jerks of his chin for his best friend to do something. It took Archie too long to figure out what Jughead was saying. By the time he tucked the flyer under his binder, I’d already seen enough.

A picture of Fred Andrews from a profile The Register did last year on local business owners stared up at me, under big bolded letters that read DATE MY DAD!

Fred was going to lose his goddamn mind.

The History of Love OC X TBD (Multi-Chapter)

Summary: Betty Cooper calls an emergency Sad Breakfast Club meeting where she convinces her friends to write letters to their college graduate selves. Emma takes this opportunity to remind her future self about her past loves in the form of a graph. Pairing TBD throughout the story as we venture through Emma’s string of Riverdale boyfriends.

Sneak Peak:

Betty and Jughead are the only two in our usual booth. She’s sitting with one foot on the bench, resting her chin on her knee and he’s leaning into her, his arm wrapped loosely around her shoulders. One of her hands is playing with his fingers. It’s uncomfortable for me to see this for a myriad of reasons: 1. My last relationship did not end well. 2. I’ve been known to be a little too “Boy Crazy” 3. I have sworn off boys for senior year.

Jughead is the first to notice my approach and is quick to move away from Betty. I smile at him awkwardly and he raises his eyebrows at me quickly, our only mode of communication since he started dating Betty.

“Emma, hey!” Betty gets up to greet me energetically with a hug--something that makes me desperate for coffee. By the time I’ve settled into the corner of the booth, Archie and Veronica have arrived. Kevin and Cheryl arrive together shortly after and we all settle in for Betty’s speech (there’s always a speech).

“So, I had this idea. We’re all graduating in a week and after that we’re all splitting up to go to different schools.” Betty pauses and Kevin takes this moment to interrupt.

“Well, we’re not ALL splitting up. Jughead and Emma are going to be in the same state.”

“Okay, we’re all splitting up with the exception of Jughead and Emma,” Betty amends with a huff. She pushes on like Kevin had never interrupted. “I had an idea that we should do a time capsule. We could all write a letter to our future selves and put in some mementos. You know, things that really remind us about our high school experience. After we’ve all graduated college we can dig it up and read our letters here at Pop’s.” Betty is beaming at us, absolutely thrilled with her idea.

The rest of us, not so much. After a bit of Betty Cooper persuasion, we all agree to participate. Even Cheryl and Kevin concede defeat after a while. Nobody bats an eye when Betty reaches under the table and starts handing out waterproof boxes for our letters/mementos.

Last Young Renegade - Jughead Jones x OC (Length TBD)

Summary: Southside High is now home to the Young Renegades, a gang from what was once a nearby town. Will they be able to get through the year without a fatality?

Sneak Peak:

After a murder, a suicide, and a drug scandal Jughead Jones didn’t think anything else could shakeup his small town of Riverdale. He was wrong. Fred Andrews got shot and then it was announced that the town limits were changing.

With this change came the Renegades, a gang from the neighbouring town. Suddenly there territory was part of Riverdale and it was an all out gang war. The first day that Renegade students came into Southside High, no less than five brawls broke out around the school.

With Renegades and Serpents trapped in the same school, there was a high chance that another dead teenager would wash up on the shores of Sweetwater River. And soon.

Leather Jacket - Jughead x OC (Standalone)

Summary: They met at a party not too long after Jughead receives his Serpent jacket. She’s not like anyone he’s met before: she’s grown up too fast, she makes mistakes, and she’s stranded again.

Sneak Peak:

Jughead no longer ignores unknown numbers when they call. Usually it’s his dad calling collect from prison--those calls are infrequent and short because without a job, Jughead can’t afford the fees. Most of their conversations take place in person. Still, he answers unknown numbers just in case.

“Hello?” He asks with mild trepidation.

“Hey,” she greets, voice muffled. “It’s Mila.”

“Hey,” he replies with mild confusion. “What happened to your cell phone?”

“Nothing, it’s in my pocket.” She lets out a tired laugh. It sounds tinny and distant.

“Where are you?” He asks her, sitting up in bed like he might be able to see her out his window.

“Truck stop,” she laughs again. “It’s a long story.”

Daddy Issues - FP Jones x OC (Multi Chapter)

Summary: Prior to the Jason Blossom murder, FP Jones is just a broken man who misses his family and is down on his luck. She’s always had a soft spot for broken men.

Sneak Peak:

“Jesus,” FP mutters to himself, cringing away from the sight of one of the Wyrm’s waitresses kissing a man old enough to be her father. The man is clad in a Serpent jacket, and FP laughs humourlessly before tilting his bottle to get the last few drops out of it. He lifts the empty glass and puts it down on the counter hard.

The bartender is quickly passing him a fresh beer, good service not hard to come by at 2:00 pm on a Tuesday. He’s still shaking his head at the odd coupling in the corner--the Serpent now has his hands full of the waitresses’ ass and FP is getting an eyeful of bare thigh--a tantalizing tease at the possibility of no underwear.

He looks back at the bartender who is leaning her elbows on the dirty countertop, watching the same show as him with a mildly amused smile. FP laughs again, knowing that she has just caught him out for staring.

“What is a young girl doing with a guy that old?” He asks her, his words slow and running together. He’s been here since 11:00 am and doesn’t bother to count his drinks anymore.

“She’s always had shit taste in guys, no offense to you or your buddies.” The bartender replies sardonically. Something in the wry twist of her lips reminds FP of his son. He’s seen her here before, but this is the first time he’s really looking at her. She’s cute, in a rough around the edges kind of way. Her eyeliner is smudged, dark hair pulled in a loose knot atop of her head. Her shirt is low enough that he can see the lace cups of her bra--he tries not to stare, but his head is heavy.

“What do you think the age difference is?” He asks her conversationally. She purses her lips and clicks her tongue once.

“Well, how old is he?” She asks, finally turning her gaze onto him.

“I dunno, forty-five give or take a few.” He guesses, words slurring audibly.

“Well, she’s my age. So that’s about a difference of 24 years.”

Thank you for reading and please feel free to message me to let me know which one was your favourite! A message from you is the best gift I could hope for.

#Quill Writes #Birthday Showcase #FP Jones x OC #FP Jones Imagine #Riverdale Imagine #Riverdale Fan Fic #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale fan fiction #Jughead imagine #FP imagine #jughead jones imagine #Jughead x oc #Jughead jones x oc #Reggie Mantle imagine #reggie mantle x oc #reggie imagine #Fred Andrews Imagine #Fred Andrews x oc

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