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oubliette-odette · 4 months ago

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The Reluctance of Love Pt. 28

Heyo! How would you feel if I said that I finally have details of the ending basically ironed out the way I want and have about 20 more chapters planned for you? Honestly, I'm kind of stoked, because I think what I have planned is pretty great. When I first started writing about Drunrag and Altan, it was supposed to be just a couple of short chapters of fluff and nothing more, but my own journey figuring out my sexuality and stuff opened up a door that made my curious mind and heart wonder, "But what if there's more to Drunrag? What is there's more to Altan? And their story?"

And so here we are, basically writing a novel at this point for a small but lovely group of people who all say really nice things about my boys even though I never consistently schedule out my chapters and have spent more time writing about our boys apart than together. (I'm so sorry for all of that).

Someday I hope to be better at interacting with you guys because you all are so funny and sweet and I think we'd all be friends irl.

Take care and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26 Content Warnings: unhealthy parent dynamics All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil.

Altan POV

I was used to the weight of my brothers laying on top of me. It was a comforting feeling to be weighed down by Robin’s warmth. Only his soft breathing cut through the quiet of the night. Everything was dark and simple, formless shadows in my vision. I could make out the shape of the guard who stood at the door, but nothing more. I had been lying awake for what felt like hours, just listening, thinking, and imagining. I had spent countless nights imagining while laying in this bed, tonight I couldn’t stop myself from pretending the weight on my chest belonged to Drunrag’s arm as he held me in his sleep and the soft breath tickling my neck was his. I could see his rough hands brushing against my arm, as he pulled me closer to him. He would be warm next to me and I would be helpless to not be drawn to it.

Drunrag had to be alive. I didn’t feel it in my bones like I hoped, but I held onto that belief, it was all I had.

I heard the cracking of a door opening and suddenly a strip of light exposing the torchlight from without, in the hallways. I did not move, but watched with narrowed eyes.

Selhar slipped in, and I heard him give a sharp retort to something that the guard had said to him. The door closed and the room returned to darkness again. I heard the guard resettle into his position in front of my door and then felt the warmth of Selhar sidle into the space next to me.

“Everything alright?” I whispered.

He hummed softly.

“Good news?” I asked.

He hummed again.

“Well?”

I felt his hand tap me on my side and I reached for it. I felt a paper drop from his hand into mine and I grasped it tightly. I held it to my chest and willed sleep to come quickly so that I could read it in the morning.

Yet, in the morning, I was awoken to my doors being banged open and my father’s shouting voice.

“What’s going through your head, son?” I blinked up blurrily and felt Selhar and Robin’s bodies tense next to me. Feeling that shot me awake and I rose up, keeping the paper crumpled tight in my hand. “Do you have any idea what you are doing?”

I raised my chin and held his gaze.

“What you’re demanding cannot be done.” My father continued. His posture and his facial expression reminded me of a snarling beast, a rabid dog, foaming at the mouth and chomping to dig his teeth into me.

I put a hand on Robin and Selhar, each on either side of me and shifted to sit myself in front of them. “What exactly is so impossible? He is alive, isn’t he? I don’t find my request all that unreasonable.” I kept my voice light, but I knew my father caught the hardened expression on my face. He hated me, and while that used to be the thing I feared most and went through painful obstacles to prevent and avoid accepting, I finally exulted in that reality. We both understood where one another stood, and that gave me power.

“Selhar, Robin, leave the room.” My father didn’t look away from me when he growled the demand.

“No.” Selhar said, his voice was venomous.

Robin said nothing, but I could see his head shifting between myself and my father. He was too young to understand, and too young to be subjected to this version of my father.

“Selhar,” I said softly, “Take Robin outside.” I turned my head and I saw the silent pleading on my brother’s face.

“Altan.” He breathed.

I shook my head. “I’ll be alright. Go.”

Selhar’s eyes darkened and he looked behind me to where our father stood. He grabbed Robin by the arm and pulled him off the bed and towards the door. The guards that stood there silently moved aside.

“A moment with just my son, please.” The Duke said to the guards and they followed my brothers out the door.

I remained sitting, the paper in my hand, my heart pounding, but my face passive. It would be alright. Soon the dam would burst, and it would be over.

“I had believed that we were on the same page when the Red Hunters brought you to me. But I see that you are more spiteful and ungrateful than ever before. Why do you resist this? After all I’ve done for you?”

“Talking about this doesn’t fix things. It never has.” I answered calmly. “I’ve told you what I want. The wedding will not happen unless you bring me Drunrag alive.”

“No.” He said. “That will never happen.”

I had to hold my face together, had to remain strong like stone. “Then for the safety of our people, I cannot agree to this wedding.”

“What nonsense are you talking about?” He exasperated. “You keep speaking about the safety of our people. From what?”

I blinked slowly before answering. “It wasn’t obvious to you what I meant?” I smiled meekly. “I mean you, father. You are no longer fit for your position. And you may think that because I am your son that that means my witness means nothing, that the council will simply laugh me off my theatrics as an ungrateful, spoiled child. But I am prepared for that, and they will listen to me.”

“You’re threatening me.”

“Yes. If that’s how you wish to see it.” I said. “I already told you the games would end. I won’t subject Selhar or Robin to what you did to me.”

“What I did to you?” I caught the way his entire body was slowly clenching, like a wild cat ready to pounce. “I did what I had to! Do you forget the debts I’m trying to pay off? The measures I’ve gone through to prevent economic collapse to our people? I let your mother coddle you because I thought it was what was best, I had to fight bigger battles than that and yet I’ve been proven again and again I was wrong to do so.”

“My mother at least told me she loved me.” I said, and I saw his eyes flash with disdain, “To her I was her child, her son. But you were more concerned about how I could benefit you in your plans and what you could do to cover up the flaws that made me undesirable for them.”

I finally slipped off the edge of my bed and walked towards him. “Without repeating myself too much, this isn’t really a conversation that helps either of us. We know one another 's motives. I know you wish me to be your pawn to pay off the debts you accrued and I want the prisoner Drunrag - wherever you have him - brought before me and the Council where a decision will be made that protects us and his people and benefits both sides.”

That was when my father smirked, “And how exactly do you plan to accomplish such a feat? As you said, the Council will hear me before they will ever listen to you.”

I lifted my chin. “We shall see.”

“Your plans won’t work, son.” He said, and he sighed.

“This is what you wanted from me, isn’t it?” I asked. “I’m finally taking charge and doing something. You should be proud that I’m finally taking responsibility..”

“Son, this is not what I meant.”

I smiled wryly, ‘I’m aware, but I’m not really afraid of what you think you can do to me.” I yawned and raised my chain as I regarded him. “Was this all you wanted to speak with me about?”

“Altan.” His tone felt like a warning.

I lifted my eyebrows, “Yes?”

He held his tongue and held my gaze for an uncomfortably long period of time before he sighed and I saw his body release a portion of his tension. He stepped back, “You will learn the hard way it seems.”

He walked out of the room with no other words.

I unwrinkled the paper from my hands and recognized Commander Gideon’s untidy scrawl,

I cannot return to the Great Hall, but I am safe. Your brother was very clever in finding me - and just in the matter of time. Thank you for the information you gleaned from the Lady of Triel. I agree with her that this evidence is enough to topple the powers that be. I trust the Gods are on our side and our efforts will not be in vain.

Doxxah believes they are familiar with the herbs that Lady Allara may be under and is researching for an antidote that may help Allara resist the effects on her mind.

I believe I was able to locate the Red Hunter’s hideout, or at least one of them. There is no guarantee that Drunrag will be there, but I promise I will not give up until he is found. I do not know how long I will be, but if you are in an emergency and need refuge, you will find allies at the Soaring Elk. It’s near the edge of town and few guards ever travel there. You will be safe there for as long as you need.

Selhar said quite confidently that he believes you will win this battle, and I believe him to be right. Whatever the future holds for you, I know it to be good. For you, and for your beloved.

My loyalty goes to you,

G.G.

I folded the paper again just as Selhar returned, sans Robin. “What happened?” He asked urgently.

I shook my head, “Nothing yet. I don’t think father is ready to make the next move yet.”

“What are you going to do next?” He asked. “Father knows you’re opposing him, he’s going to fight back.”

I nodded, “Yes, but I think he still misunderstands me and won’t expect my next move.” I sighed. “At least I hope that’s true.”

“I think you’ve definitely rattled him.” Selhar’s voice lowered. “I think if the guard hadn’t been there, he would have hurt you.”

“He didn’t.” I said. “And he won’t. Not anymore. Have you had any luck finding that vial?”

He shook his head, “Nothing, I’ve been through Father’s office twice. There’s nothing.”

“How do you get around so easily?” I exclaimed. “You’re honestly terrifying.”

He grinned. “Mum taught me.”

I felt like my heart softened. Of course she did. I reached and tussled his hair. “I’m going to be summoning a meeting with the Council, would you join me and bear witness to father’s crimes?”

He let out a breath, one that felt like the release of something, “It would be my honor.”

Want to be updated on new chapters? DM me to be added to the tag list!

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idontknowreallywhy · 1 year ago

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Ok, I had a couple of hours in a hospital waiting room today so before I forgot the threads of where this story was going, I typed it all into notepad and well here it is, unedited as I think I’m next on the list to be called in and then I’ll have to go back to work and maybe after all that I’ll lose my nerve again.

We’ve not got to the answer yet, but here is some more Virgil pondering / reminiscing along the way…

Ch 2 - Muscle Memory

Virgil was 8-and-three-quarters when he had his first proper piano lesson. It was much too late.

The teacher had lamented it on a weekly basis. It was a such shame, she sighed, that the raw talent Virgil displayed was unlikely ever to amount to anything now. Everyone who knew about such things said all the greats were in formal training from their early years. It was very sad, apparently.

Nearly-9 Virgil didn’t pay all this much heed, he never intended to be a ‘great’ anything. He only wanted to play as many tunes as he could and the only person he truly cared about enjoying it was his Mommy.

Virgil’s only interest in those much vaunted ‘greats’ had been in watching them carefully in online videos to learn how they managed to make the leap from this chord to that melody line or how to adjust his hand position, just… so, in order to play that nippy little counter-melody that his fingers had stumbled over. So it became that, by the age of 10, with little formal training, he was beginning to exceed his mother’s technical ability (albeit he’d allow nobody to make such a comment, not even her).

And anyway, he’d been learning to play his whole life. One of their Christmas traditions, after Virgil had played the variations on carols he’d worked on for the occasion was to play family videos on the holoprojector. Every time, he’d blush as his last festive chord began to fade away because at that moment John would fire up the first one and it was always the same.

Wobbly home footage from the ‘30s showed himself as a round-cheeked 6 month old sat on Mommy’s lap at her piano, mashing the keys with his chubby fists and kicking his little legs in delight, while toddler Scotty squealed “Virgie’s playing Pan-eeeo” in the background and his Dad chuckled fondly from behind the camera. Focussed mainly on the objectively adorable infant, the camera panned up only for 0.87 of a second to show his Mom gazing fondly at the back of his fuzzy head. Yes, he had a screenshot of that moment saved on his tablet for… well, the harder times.

He smiled as he recalled the next part of the tradition - just before they all risked getting melancholy, Gordon would leap on to his lap and impersonate baby Virgil with passionate abandon, while Scott was prevailed upon to do an impression of his squeaky toddler-self (come to think of it, that impression sounded a heck of a lot like present day Alan but best not mention that to the poor kid).

Since that famous moment he and his mom had spent time together by that piano most days, either together, with her initially guiding his hands and eventually simple duets, or each quietly sat listening to the other play.

It was his school teacher, on hearing him practise snippets of a Mozart concerto on the music room piano at lunch times who had suggested the local instrumental teacher - a jack of all trades who could play any instrument decently but clearly wasn’t inspired by her day job. That first teacher didn’t last long in the end, not when her criticisms were overhead by a certain Jefferson Tracy who took exception to anyone who told one of his boys they couldn’t be great at anything they chose to be great at. ‘Proper’ lessons ceased while his parents sought somebody who would be more interested in nurturing Virgil for himself rather than in raising ‘the next great prodigy’. Unfortunately there weren’t many options in the wilds of Kansas so things lapsed for a while and, well, events intervened and everyone lost focus on the fun stuff.

The months after Mom died were quiet. It wasn’t that his family didn’t want him to play. It was just that the sound of the piano was so heavily associated with their mother that inevitably one of his brothers would choke up and rush from the room or Dad would go still and pale. He loved his family dearly and couldn’t bear to hurt them more, even though ceasing the activity they’d bonded over made him feel he was losing her all over again - he couldn’t just… stop.

So he’d skip lunch and monopolise the school piano, stay late some days, sometimes bolt down breakfast to get to school early and squeeze in some precious minutes before slipping into the back of his classroom late when he’d got carried away. But it… it. wasn’t. enough. The satisfaction in his playing was gone. The music itself was somehow gone, replaced by a queasy kind of desperation. He just didn’t have enough time to master the difficult phrases and his hands trembled with frustration and urgency because he only had 20 mins before he had to sit through double chemistry… He was hungry and tired but she’d loved this piece and he just needed to get it RIGHT.

It was Scott who saved him. Aware of Virgil’s frequent absence from the school canteen and not being able to bear the look on his best friend’s face when he forced himself to walk past the piano stool he came up with a plan and raided the savings he’d earmarked for the air cadets trip that summer. One evening when he slunk home late and went to collapse in the room he shared with his big brother he found a small electric piano squeezed into the space at the end of his bed, with a top -end pair of headphones perched on top. Big brother followed him in and watched with a small smile. Virgil had thrown himself at the boy across the room and babbled incoherent gratitude into his chest through oh-so-snotty tears-oh-Scott-your-hoodie-sorry and they’d clung to each other for what felt like hours until Scott had suggested maybe he should actually give the thing a go.

That was the first step in his music returning to him. The second was an unrelated conversation with Gordon.

The kid would ramble on at length about something that had caught his imagination and Virgil was the best at showing an interest which meant he learned a lot more lobster facts than he ever thought he’d need. When Gordon discovered that there were people who did swimming races AS THEIR JOB, Virgil was regaled with the training regimes of famous aquatic athletes and mostly smiled and nodded until one morning at breakfast Gordon started babbling about visualisation and how one could increase fitness and build muscle memory with their imagination.

From that moment, Virgil rarely travelled anywhere without an earbud in his right ear and twitching fingers. In fairness he never got very good at maintaining the “imagination” part… on long trips home in Two when Gordon had dozed off in the co-pilot seat, he’d quietly select a Rachmaninov concerto and ‘play’ it through secretly and silently while gazing out the windscreen. His brother, never a heavy sleeper, would crack an eye and watch with a little smile as his brother would slip into “air piano” at what must have been particularly dramatic moments. The expression of joy on his big brother bear’s face was an immediate antidote to the temptation to tease and Gordon kept it to himself, feeling privileged to have seen his brother entirely care-free.

Virgil didn’t visualise piano while he painted though. You can’t play piano (even in your mind) while holding a brush - he’d tried a few times and ended up dropping it. So when alone in his studio he picked non-piano pieces as a soundtrack to his artistic expression.

So yeah, it wasn’t air-piano behind the paint splatters either. Virgil lay on the floor and stared up at the purple starburst that had appeared at some point over the last 24 hours. He was coming to the conclusion his studio was definitely haunted.

…..

Note: this is what Gordon catches Virg ‘playing’ on long trips home in TB2… initially it’s just the bass notes where he gets a flickr of the left hand little finger but by the time the solo kicks off at 2.15 in, he’s in full air piano mode…

youtube

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #unedited un proof read rambling #I’ll improve it later #thunderbirds are go #the paint mystery #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #thunderfluff #idkrw thunderfluff #Music is everything #Music is Everything fic

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odysseys-blood · 11 months ago

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ASK GAME 1-10, TELL ME EVERYTHING FOR BOTH GABRIEL AND PLUM

girl that is so many i'll split this in half and do gabe's first and plum's another day

Gabriel

1. What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

Gabe does modeling so she's on the move more often than she'd like to be so when she takes a lazy day she will do Absolutely Nothing. Judas (her youngest sibling) will come by on those days to hang out and also be her little helper for the day! Lazarus lives with Gabriel too but they're always out of the house do judas is the most reliable option. It's a coin toss on if she'll actually stay down for the full time she's off, and if she doesn't she'll take judas out somewhere for the rest of the day instead.

2. How easy is it for your character to laugh?

She's a very jovial person! I think she has one of those cutesy tinkly bell laughs. This is great for BD who would do anything to get a cute girl to laugh for him after may telling him to shut the fuck up every time he opens his mouth. even though BD probably deserves it.

3. How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

Like i said she's always in and out of shoots so she probably conks out easy but Gabe's a sleepy time tea person imo. (i say imo like i didnt make her). maybe adding in a blood capsule if she's a little hungry too.

4. How easy is it to earn their trust?

The city Gabe's in isn't the safest for humans or monster kin so she's open but not like. naive if that makes sense. She trusts you to act accordingly and in exchange she'll be on her best behavior! She is a nightmare (humanoid demon species thst feed on blood and "negative" feelings like fear or apprehension) however so meeting her is more likely to be your problem than hers.

5. How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

Refer to above idk why these r right next to each other. But to expand a little bit the only reason you would lose her trust is if you're a constsnt promise breaker. this is why she and may have been dating on/off because while gabe makes time in her schedule all the time for may, may often gets caught up with work often that she can't really leave which has led to many instances of gabe waiting up for her at meeting spots only to get a "im sorry" text 2 hours late.

6. Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?

she bites people i dont think she cares much

7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

if she and judas do something like clothes shopping i think that would bring back a lot of memories for her! gabe began socially transitioning in early highschool (around judas' current age) and her mother, ezekiel, was with her every step of the way from making sure she was in an as comfortable as possible school environment, giving her a lot of support at home and ofc making sure gabe could wear whatever made her comfortable. at first gabe was wearing more subdued simple dresses like ezekiel does because she thought they looked amazing on her mother, but ezekiel pushed her bit by bit to look more at what she would want not just what she thinks would make ezekiel happy.

8. What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child.

terrorizing local kids is in the repertoire for nightmare children but it doesn't look good at PTA meetings if everyone knows you because your baby was putting frogs and worms and stuff in other kids' backpacks. you can bet gabe had nice naps from a full tummy after recess every day though

9. Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?

honestly i dont think she'd swear often? not from like thinking swearing is bad or w/e it just doesnt fit her.

10. What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

first time she invited mayhem home for dinner and that girl ghosted her the day of and replied hours after ezekiel had A Fit and gabe and lazarus spent hours trying to do damage control to make sure their mom didnt go and rip may a new one. was an embarassing day for gabe for many reasons and may was not allowed to try again and make up for it for a year bc its likely that ezekiel might have hurt her bad. don't play games with her babies like that

#cliff finally answers #commandersgrab #oc corner #yes i took a long time just bc i wanted to make a little gabe what r u gonna do abt it #long post

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news4usonline · 8 months ago

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Biden gives State of the Union pep talk

Bullies don’t like to get hit. President Joe Biden hit Donald Trump in the mouth and kept hitting the former president with one verbal blow after another. Unfortunately for Trump, Biden was serving up his State of the Union address to the American people while he hammered No. 45 with carefully said and well-crafted verbiage. "I fixed student loan programs to reduce the burden of student debt for nearly 4 million Americans." pic.twitter.com/8FfY9ElNIK— The White House (@WhiteHouse) March 8, 2024 That meant that Trump was not able to hit back…not as hard as Biden, who had the fortune of having the entire world tuning into listening to his speech. Biden had a lot to talk about. During his primetime speech, Biden discussed eradicating student debt, keeping social security, restoring a woman's right to abortion, fixing the immigration crisis, domestic terrorism, and confronting Russian President Vladimir Putin. It felt like Biden was trying to cram in just about every issue Americans are dealing with into his last big speech before the November election where he’ll square off against Trump to be president for another four years. A former U.S. senator, Biden commanded the room and discussed those issues with the American public, but he saved his harshest tone during the evening going up one side of Trump and coming down the other side. The first issue that Biden takes offense to is Trump cow-towing down to Putin, something an American President should never do, he said. “It wasn’t that long ago when a Republican President, Ronald Reagan, thundered, ‘Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall.’ Now, my predecessor, a former Republican President, tells Putin, ‘Do whatever the hell you want.’ A former American President actually said that, bowing down to a Russian leader. It’s outrageous. It’s dangerous. It’s unacceptable.” In continuing to hit Putin over the head about Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, Biden denounced any belief that might conclude that the former Soviet Union leader would end his war crusade there. “If anybody in this room thinks Putin will stop at Ukraine, I assure you, he will not,” Biden remarked. My message to President Putin is simple. We will not walk away. We will not bow down. I will not bow down.” "But Israel must also do its part. Israel must allow more aid into Gaza and ensure that humanitarian workers aren’t caught in the cross fire." pic.twitter.com/PRHyLnpgcP— The White House (@WhiteHouse) March 8, 2024 After going all in against Putin, Biden had some more choice words for Trump and some of his cronies in Congress who tried to sabotage the certification of the election in 2020. This, of course, led to the Jan. 6, 2021 insurrection at the U.S. Capitol. People died. Democracy was nearly crushed but it survived. “History is watching, just like history watched three years ago on Jan. 6. Insurrectionists stormed this very Capitol and placed a dagger at the throat of American democracy,” Biden said. “Many of you were here on that darkest of days. We all saw with our own eyes these insurrectionists were not patriots.” Biden then went all in on Trump and the many betrayers of the United States. “My predecessor and some of you here seek to bury the truth of Jan. 6,” Biden said. “I will not do that. This is a moment to speak the truth and bury the lives. And here’s the simplest truth. You can’t love your country only when you win.” "I’m demanding a BAN on assault weapons and high-capacity magazines." pic.twitter.com/Z5gmWg1vYP— The White House (@WhiteHouse) March 8, 2024 Biden took another dig at the former president when he talked about gun laws and the mass shooting that took the lives of 19 students and two educators at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas. “With us tonight is Jasmine, whose 9-year-old sister Jackie was murdered with 21 classmates and teachers at her elementary school in Uvalde, Texas,” Biden said. “Soon after it happened, Jill and I went to Uvalde and spent hours with the families. We heard their message, and so should everyone in this chamber do something.” Biden continued, “I did something by establishing the first-ever Office of Gun Violence Prevention in the White House that Vice President Harris is leading. Meanwhile, my predecessor told the NRA he’s proud he did nothing on guns when he was President,” Biden said.”After another school shooting in Iowa, he said we should just ‘get over it.’ I say we must stop it.” Lead Photo Caption: President Joe Biden delivers the State of the Union address to a joint session of Congress at the Capitol, Thursday, March 7, 2024, in Washington. (Shawn Thew/Pool via AP) Read the full article

#Congress #DonaldTrump #PresidentJoeBiden #StateoftheUnion

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queen--of--shadows · 2 years ago

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Healing Shadows: Part 4

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader is a gifted surgical healer and water bender. Rhysand needs her help when he finds out about Feyre’s risky pregnancy. Azriel finds out reader is his mate.

Warnings: mentions of surgical wounds and scars

Word Count: 1,896

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

---------------------------

Part 4: Truth

Nuala and Cerridwen cleaned up, removing any trace of the traumatic morning, while you and Rhys set up a cozy array of soft quilts, plush blankets, and thick pillows in Feyre’s old room so she could nest with baby Nyx. “Feyre, let me know if you need anything, I’ll be in my--�� You stammered as you felt the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Rhys questioned, raising a brow.

“Nothing, I’m sorry. I was about to say my room, I didn’t mean to assume I could just take over the guest room. I…Is there somewhere else I should bring my bag?” You only had your supplies with you, not foreseeing that you would end up moving in so soon.

Rhys and Feyre shared a sympathetic look. “Y/N, please, consider the House like your own home. Take whichever room you prefer. If you want to stay in the guest room, by all means, do,” Rhys continued, “We have no problem using another room for guests.” He gave you a warm smile, and you knew he meant it.

Your chest swelled with joy and gratitude at their generosity. Turning to Feyre, you said “I’ll be in my room. Shout if you need me.”

------------------------

It was late and although you were physically and emotionally exhausted from the day’s events, sleep escaped you. Soaking in a long steaming bath usually helped, but maybe it was the nerves of being in a new home. And not just any home, but the High Lord’s. You still were having a hard time believing the trajectory of your life changed so drastically in just a few days.

You paced in your room, read a few chapters of the book Nesta had lent you, trying to tire yourself out, but after a half hour gave up. Maybe I just need some tea, you thought, grabbing a robe from the dresser and making your way downstairs.

The House was dark and dim, save for the faelight torches along the length of the stairs. You were already familiar with its layout, or as much of it that you’d seen so far. Nesta had mentioned she would give you a tour of the Library tomorrow, and Cassian offered to show you around the rest of the House and the training ground on the roof.

With one hand against the wall, you made your way into the opulent kitchen. Beautiful white marble glistened underneath the iridescent faelight. You grabbed one of the torches to guide your path to the end of the room, pulling back the thick curtains draped around giant floor-to-ceiling windows, revealing the famed starry Velaris night sky and a full moon. Even though you had spent most of your life here, the sight still took your breath away.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Azriel whispered.

You jolted back and turned to face him, not realizing he was in the kitchen before you had come down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he chuckled, bringing his hands up in innocence. His deep, breathy laugh caressed your soul. Azriel was donning a simple black ensemble, the V-line cut of his sweater showcasing dark sweeping tendrils of his tattoos across a broad, muscular chest. Your heart began to pace and you were sure he could hear its pounding. Moonlight shining bright on him from the window, you couldn’t help but marvel at his perfect features. The sharp angle of his jaw, his soft, full lips, and gorgeous, blazing hazel eyes. His shadows slithered around his arms and shoulders, and you looked down to see one of them wrapping up your leg, like a cat brushing and winding against you. A cheeky smile spread across your face as the shadow slid up and around one leg, then the other.

Meeting his eyes again, you realized you hadn’t said a single word.

“Yes, it’s beautiful,” you breathed. Turning back around, you continued, “I’ve loved the night sky since I was young.” Azriel hummed in agreement, taking a seat at the oak table in the center of the kitchen. You just noticed the odd-shaped chairs, and as he sat down, it made sense that they were fashioned to accommodate their massive wings.

“I was going to make myself tea, would you like some?” You looked to Azriel for his response, but he just stared at you, as if searching for an answer from you in turn. His cold, beautiful face yielded no emotion.

“Sure, thank you.”

You worked in comfortable silence, steeping the tea, unsure what to say or how to make conversation. He was the notorious Shadowsinger, and although that alone didn’t scare you, you had just been invited to move in and were still getting to know everyone.

Straining out the rich chamomile drink into two mugs, you handed him one before deciding to head back upstairs. You wanted to stay, some feeling in your gut telling you to take a seat, but figured it would be better to avoid any situation that would cause you to gain feelings for someone in the Inner Circle. The few moments you’ve had with Azriel thus far already had you in bed at night, imaging his tall lithe body, pushed up against yours.

Azriel wrapped his hand around the mug and your fingers, warm and strong. He looked up at you as if expecting more, but you instead pulled back with a soft smile and mumbled goodnight.

You didn’t notice the shadows that followed you back to your room, slithering along the cold stone floors in the darkness.

You were kicking yourself as soon as you shut your door.

How will I ever fit in around here?

The tea worked its magic to clear your mind, and with heavy lids, you drifted away into a deep sleep.

----------------------------

The following day, you were awoken by a loud knock at your door. “Come in,” you grumbled, eyes still half-closed.

“Morning, Y/N!” Mor squealed as she let herself in, her citrusy cinnamon scent filling your room. Jumping onto your bed and propping her head on one elbow, she asked “How did you sleep?”

Her eyes sparkled as she awaited your answer. “Fine,” was all you could manage. How did she look so good this early?

“Madja is here. She said she wanted to come check on Feyre and Nyx.”

Rubbing your eyes and pulling on your robe and slippers, you followed the tall blonde downstairs.

You entered Feyre’s room to find Cassian holding Nyx with Azriel seated next to him, both cooing over the baby. He was looking healthier and stronger by the day. Rhys was helping Feyre out of bed and onto the couch so you and Madja could look at her wounds. Madja slowly peeled back the bandages and gauze from yesterday morning. She whipped around, meeting your eyes with a menacing gaze that made you want to shrink.

“Why do her cuts still look so fresh?” Madja’s words shook you out of your sleepy stupor, and an icy fear mixed with rage washed over you.

No…please, please don’t say anything.

You didn’t respond.

“What does that mean? Are they not supposed to look like this?” Rhys asked, his night-kissed power slowly thrumming throughout the room. All eyes were on you, again.

“Madja? What are you talking about?” Feyre protested.

She didn’t shift her gaze away from you.

“I thought you were going to tell them. When I asked for your help, I meant all of it.”

You threw your head back in frustration. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Madja,” you replied coolly. “I performed the surgery, Nyx is healthy and Feyre is healing appropriately. Her wound is already closing.”

You prayed that everyone would believe you, despite Madja’s death stare.

“Y/N, what are you hiding from us?” Rhys knew how to sound like the High Lord when he needed to. Guilt and shame-- you suddenly felt horrible for not telling them the whole truth. Fine, they offered you their home and trust, the least you could do was give them this.

“Rhys, Feyre, I’m sorry. I haven’t been completely honest with you. I…” You were having a hard time putting your thoughts into words. “I have healing…powers? Magic? Something beyond just my surgical skills. I’m not entirely sure what to call it. I learned a lot from studying medical texts, but my healing power is similar to...”

They all stared at you, awaiting your explanation.

“It’s hard to describe, and I haven’t fully mastered it yet. I need to practice more, but essentially I can heal using water.”

The blank stares you received in return had you stumbling over your words as you continued, “I think it would be better if I just showed you.”

Focusing on the glass of water next to Feyre’s bed, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes to center yourself. You searched deep down in your core for that power, that magic that hummed along your veins, allowing you to bend water to your will. Opening your eyes, you lifted one hand with a flicking motion of your wrist, the water following, easing out of the glass and into the air like a fluid rope. You turned your palm towards the water to stop it, and then continued to bend and twist your wrist and fingers, weaving and dancing the water through the air, not unlike Azriel’s shadows when they wreath around his neck and limbs. You were so focused, you didn’t notice the multiple sets of eyes darting back and forth between the water and you.

“Incredible…” Azriel all but whispered to himself.

Halting the water above Feyre, you motioned for her to lay down on the couch. The room was silent as if everyone was holding their breath, watching you command the element to your will.

With one hand holding the water still above her, you used your other to lift Feyre’s tunic above her abdomen to reveal the site you had cut into just a day ago. Using both hands, you twisted the water into a circle and brought it down above her wound. “This may tickle,” you warned. Feyre nodded, and you were grateful for the trust shining bright in her eyes.

You slid the water across her abdomen, willing the magic from deep inside you into the liquid. The water began to glow a soft blue, illuminating Feyre’s belly, and you moved it in long strokes across her wounds as if you were washing and wiping with a towel. You continued for a few seconds, the redness from the stitches slowly subsiding, and the wound fully closed. You were done with a few more strokes, then eased the liquid back into the glass on the nightstand and reeled your power back in. The water stopped glowing.

“That was…unbelievable,” Rhys muttered. “Y/N, it seems you have a sort of elemental magic. Have you tried using your power with other materials?”

Already following his pattern of logic, you responded with a sigh and shook your head in disappointment, “I have, but for some reason, I’m not able to connect with the other elements. I don’t know why, but it seems I’m only able to do this with water or other fluids that contain water, like--”

“Like blood,” Azriel finished for you, wearing the cold mask of the Night Court’s Spymaster.

“Yes, like blood.”

---------------------------

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wardenannie · 3 years ago

Text

A lot of baby/pregnancy fic tends to focus on the end of pregnancy/the beginning of the baby’s life. But I wanted to do a little character study into Levi, so here he is over the course of 10 hours after learning Hange is preggo~ (mildly nsfw)

Ao3

10 Hours

Hour 0

“So...” She faces away from him. Her single eye locked on the sky beyond her window. Hange Zoe, fourteenth Commander of the Survey Corps, will not turn to face him. She is sat at her desk, hands folded on its top. Levi cannot see her expression, but he expects that it is as grim as her tone.

He braces himself for bad news.

“I’m pregnant.”

The birds beyond the window stop singing. The clouds cease their trek across the cerulean sky. Levi’s breath is stuck in his chest, a painful lump between his lungs.

“Come again?”

This time she does look at him, pinning him to the floor with an emotionless glance over her shoulder.

“Pregnant. Expecting. Vertically impaired bun in the proverbial oven.”

The short joke is lost on him. He exhales sharply, like someone punched him in the gut, “Oh.”

Hange sighs and resumes her staring out the window, “Just think on it. You don’t need to say anything right now.”

Levi swallows thickly and gladly takes the excuse to exit the room. His head is spinning, heart thundering in his chest. Pregnant. It doesn’t feel real yet.

He retreats to the relative safety of his quarters.

Hour 1

Levi punches a hole in his wall with a snarl. Untoward anger radiating through his limbs.

Sheetrock and plaster rain down, dirtying his pristine floor, further incensing him. He kicks a second hole in the wall, shouting with the impact of his booted heel. More debris falls.

He paces back and forth, occasionally tugging a hand through his hair. He’s sweating, he feels filthy.

But he knows that Hange isn’t lying. This is not the sort of sick joke she would pull. But they had been so careful, hadn’t they?

He replays the penultimate moments of their last few encounters over in his head, and quickly realizes that they haven’t been as careful as he’d thought. There is nothing quite like losing himself in the depths of Hange... Commander Hange.

Shit. He curses himself and perches on the foot of his bed, resting his head in his hands.

What the fuck is he supposed to do now?

Hour 2

Eventually he finds himself spread eagle across his bed. His eyes trace along the wooden grain of the ceiling. His head still spins when he thinks too deeply about anything, and a strange ache has settled into his chest, like a fist around his heart.

Does he love Hange Zoe? Would it be fair to bring a child into the world if he didn’t?

They’ve never said the words aloud to one another, but he knows in his heart-of-hearts that he does love her. She anchors him to reality, instills in him a drive to live where there might have only been despair.

His fists clench and unclench rhythmically in his linens. Levi shuts his slate eyes and breathes deeply, trying to calm and steady himself.

He is in love with Hange Zoe. He can admit that to himself now, in what feels like the most dire of circumstances.

But can he love a child? Is there enough room in his heart?

He rolls onto his side and covers his face with a pillow.

It still feels unreal. A bad dream playing out before his waking eyes.

Hour 3

He oscillates back into denial, then anger.

Who are they to bring a child into this terrible, cruel world? An Eldian child, a scapegoat, a martyr for Marley to string up and burn.

She has to be lying. Hange cannot possibly be telling him the truth. No Walls, no Gods, no omnipotent powers could be so terribly sordid as to bring an infant into the world now. Not while they are on the brink of war.

Hour 4

He remembers his childhood; years spent wasting away in a whorehouse. Starving while his mother wasted her ill-gotten wages on booze. Levi was a bastard, fatherless. The only male role-model he’d ever had was Kenny, and look where that had gotten him.

“I can’t be a father,” he whispers into the dying light of his quarters.

He doesn’t know how.

Hour 5

He takes his supper in the mess hall when he would normally eat within the privacy of his quarters. He hopes that the noise might distract, that interacting with his... his kids... might help him to better grasp his current situation.

The irony of it isn’t lost on him as he sits in silence amongst his young comrades. In a way he has been a father to them where their own had become titan food.

He watches Sasha scarf her food with abandon, Connie teasing her between his own hearty mouthfuls. He watches Jean roll his eyes at the two of them, then take a moment to proudly pet the patchy stubble that has begun to grow in around his chin.

Levi listens to Armin excitedly pontificate to Mikasa and Eren about Marlean cuisine and meal customs. Mikasa listens on in contented silence, a small smile on her lips. Eren’s eyes are distant, like he isn’t listening at all.

Levi wants to smack him on the back of his head. The twerp has been acting up a lot more as of late. Secretly, it worries him.

His kids.

Who needs a baby when they have it this good?

He sighs and looks down to his tray, food untouched.

They’re Hange’s kids, too.

Their baby. Theirs.

Hour 6

He returns to his quarters, stomach tied up in painful knots. He remembers Kenny, how the man had taught him the cruel, ruthless ways of the Underground.

He remembers Isabel and Furlan. How he had allowed himself to love so selflessly only to be burned and brutalized in the end. What if that happened to Hange? Hange who he had come to rely on more than anything, anyone. Childbirth was a dangerous thing, everyone knew that. Even with the new, fancy anti-biotics being imported from the mainland the risks were high.

What if he lost her?

Her remembers Erwin who he had loved as a father, a brother, a martyr and a dear comrade. He remembers his Commander dying on that rooftop in Shiganshina. He remembers the blood. Icy blue eyes cold and dead as Hange peeled back his lids.

Levi’s stomach rolls and he flips his upper half over the side of the bed and promptly vomits onto the floor.

Behind his eyes an image has begun to take shape. Hange laid out in bed, naked from the waist down. Bloody, sweaty, weak and dying as a shapeless creatures squalls on her chest.

“No,” Levi rasps, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

He feels so weak, so helpless in the face of this indominable thing. The sleep that takes him is unbidden and restless.

Hour 7

Levi dreams of a cabin tucked away amongst the massive boles of the trees beyond wall Rose. Smoke rises from the chimney, filling the crisp forest air with a pleasant, homey smell.

Sunlight breaks through the canopy and speckles the ground. Everything is bright and beautiful and alive. The simple wooden door of the cabin beckons to him, and he is helpless but to answer its call.

Inside the space is cozy and quaint. The kitchen and living area inhabiting the same space. Hange is waiting for him, sitting on a small, plush sofa. She isn’t wearing her eye patch, revealing the milky iris and silvery scar she usually guards so carefully.

“Levi,” she beams at him. For a moment he is stunned by her simple, unkempt beauty.

He knows he is meant to be anxious over something, but suddenly he cannot remember what it is.

He sits down beside her takes her face between his hands and kisses her.

I love you, he wants to admit the truth. He’s ready. But his lips will not part. The words will not pass his tongue.

When they part Hange’s expression darkens, long shadows falling over her hawkish features.

“Levi...” she breathes.

Shadows begin to creep in from the corners of the cabin. The walls suddenly feel as though they are caving in, and suddenly his peaceful dream has become a nightmare.

“You’re pregnant,” The sound of his own voice is alien and distant in his ears. He feels small. Smaller than usual. Miniscule and helpless. Why can he speak now?

Hange nods and then the pair of them are besieged by shadows.

Hour 8

Levi sits bolt upright in his bed, sweat is gathered on his brow and sharp shivers wrack his limbs. He pants and wipes his face with his palm.

“Fuck,” he curses.

He’s used to nightmares, but more often than not Hange is in bed beside him waiting to soothe them away.

Here, in his quarters, he is completely and utterly alone.

Levi doesn’t want to be alone anymore.

He tugs on his boots and stumbles out into the hallway, not caring how disheveled he must appear to any passers-by. He wants to be with Hange, he’s cursing himself for leaving her alone to begin with.

How selfish does that make him? He’s not the one bearing the brunt of this burden. It isn’t his body and life that are at risk. What must she be feeling now? All alone because her lover left her in a fit of selfish upset.

When he reaches her door he doesn’t bother to knock. It opens with a rush of air and he finds her where he left her; sitting at her desk, gazing out the window. Her elbows rest on the dry ink of a half finished letter.

“Levi?” She spins sideways in her chair, facing him entirely.

He shakes his head and closes the distance between them in two easy strides. He seizes her face between his hands and kisses her roughly, because he isn’t good with words, so he’ll show her how he feels.

“Mmpf!” She makes a noise of surprise, but then she melts into him, hands lifting to rest on his chest, then caressing around to link behind his neck.

When they part she gives a small, sad smile and says, “I didn’t think I’d see you again tonight.”

“I was being an idiot,” Levi grunts, and he helps her to her feet. “A selfish idiot.”

“No you weren’t, Levi. It’s a lot to take in, I know,” her thumb brushes his lower lip. “I love you.”

Hour 9

The words are difficult to speak, so he shows her out he feels. He shows her in the reverent way he peels her clothes from her body, the rough, desperate caress of his touch, the slide of his thin lips over her chin and collarbones and breasts.

He holds her hips and kisses from her navel to her abdomen, and he kisses her there too because despite everything he does want this baby. He loves this baby already, because it is him and it is Hange. The best of the both of them taking shape in her womb.

Levi abandons all gentleness as he makes love to her. It is animal. Primal. His hands will leave bruises on her hips, and his lips suck hers swollen.

When he finishes, just after her, he doesn’t bother to pull out. It doesn’t matter anymore. And as he pumps himself into her he whispers raspy and desperate into her sternum, “I love you.”

The words hurt in such a sublime way. He’s never said them before, not once in his life. But here he is, speaking them, meaning them, bleeding them from his soul into hers.

He loves her, and he’ll love this baby, too.

Hour 10

They lay in bed, Hange’s fingers comb rhythmically through his hair, and she presses the occasional kiss to his crown.

Levi has one arm wound around her waist, his cheek pressed into her sternum, his other hand cupping her abdomen, thumb caressing gentle circles into the skin there.

“I know you’re afraid,” Hange finally speaks. Her voice is soft and loaded with emotion. “I am, too. But I think we deserve this, Levi. It’s a chance for a life beyond the Survey Corps, for a real family.”

Levi tilts his head up and kisses her gently. She’s right, but he still cannot help but remember his vision and his nightmare.

“There’s so much that could go wrong,” his voice is pained. He holds her tighter.

Hange sighs and rests her cheek on his head, “You’re not wrong, but we’ve got eight months to figure things out, okay? For tonight, just hold me.”

Levi sighs and melts into her, shutting his eyes.

In Hange’s arms his sleep is dreamless.

#levihan #my writing

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simplee-dreaming · 3 years ago

Text

The Party

A/N: I spent far too much time deciding how all of their outfits were gonna look so I hope it paid off. Also, I know some things I mention have different names in different countries but I've gone for what I only know as the British version. Hope you like it! (Totally didn't get inspiration for this idea from driving past a joke shop myself...)

Word count: 2951

Summary: The reader attends her first themed party hosted by RDJ, but her outfit lands her in trouble.

------------------------------------

Tonight was the night. The night you had been waiting for for weeks. A party at Robert Downey Jr’s house. But not just any old party, oh no, a party for the Avengers cast. Not even just a party - a themed party.

See, Robert is well known for his themed parties. Of course he’s done the classics such as the black and white theme, the 80s theme, even the “dress as your favourite superhero” theme - what could be more suited? But he’s also well known for his unique themes. For example: dress as what you wanted to be when you were a kid; dress as your favourite fruit or veg; dress as another member of the cast; dress as your favourite gay icon. The list goes on.

This was your very first party with the cast though. Being the newest member, you were super excited to have a great night with them all outside of work - plus little Tom couldn’t stop guessing what this theme could be. It was, of course:

“Dress as your favourite board game.”

Yep. Board games.

You spent ages trying to figure out what board game you were going to dress up as. The main rule of the themed parties was that you couldn’t tell other people what you were going as unless you deliberately needed someone else to complete your outfit.

You were desperate for ideas now that the party was only a week away. It wasn’t until you were walking down the highstreet, and something in the shop window caught your eye, that you finally had an idea. You were standing outside of a joke shop, and in the window stood a dress...designed like a Twister mat.

Perfect.

The day had finally arrived. No one was filming today so you had all day to get yourself ready. Hair and makeup done, Twister dress on, ready to rumble.

You made your way to RDJ’s house at half 8 - late enough to not be the first one there but early enough to enjoy everyone’s company for longer. You smiled with glee as you stepped into the house. You were tingling with excitement as you walked towards the room where the music played. The minute you walked into the room, everyone approached you. And one by one you scanned them all to see what they were dressed as.

The first person you saw was Anthony, he was dressed up as Cards Against Humanity. Not quite a board game but funny nonetheless. The front of his outfit was completely black and the back was completely white. The writing on his front read “I drink to forget _____”, and the writing on his back read “Tom Holland”. You giggled.

Next was Scarlett. She decided to come dressed as Pictionary. Part of her outfit was made with polyester and nylon, and she carried around a whiteboard marker so that anyone could draw a picture on her outfit and others had to guess what it was. This could also be wiped off easily, ready for the next person to draw.

Sebastian was next, you snorted when you saw him. He was dressed as Frustration. His outfit was divided into the four colours: his top right being yellow, top left being green, bottom right being blue and bottom left being red. He had placed a semisphere plastic hat over his head and inside lay a foam dice which jumped about whenever he shook his head.

After Seb came Liz. She was dressed up as Uno. Her front and back were two different colours of the uno reverse card - the front being red and the back being green. The point of this is that whenever someone asked her to do something she didn’t wanna do, she’d just point to her outfit and get out of doing it.

Next was Paul B. He came as Trivial Pursuit. Random questions and answers were plastered all over his suit, such as: “how many feet are there in a fathom? 6”; “What three-word slogan was named the most popular advertisement ever in a 2000 poll? Beanz Meanz Heinz”; and his own personal saying, “Where do snitches end up? In ditches”.

Following Paul was the unsurprising double act. Big Tom and Hemsy. They had come dressed as Snakes and Ladders. Tom had glued a giant toy python to his all-black outfit, and Chris had stuck a cardboard ladder to the front and back of his all-white outfit. Simple, yet effective.

Then came Evans who was dressed as Noughts and Crosses, despite numerous comments from RDJ about it not being a board game. His back was full of paper noughts and crosses stuck to his top but his front had a similar material to Scarlett’s where the cast could play their own game on his front and then wipe it off for the next players.

You scanned little Tom next. He had gone all out with his outfit, dressing up as Operation. He was wearing a light pink coloured top and matching trousers and had stapled all the pieces of operation to their correct areas, such as the butterfly, the spare rib and the wish bone. He’d also used face paint to paint his nose a dark shade of red. Adorably creepy in a way.

Last, but certainly not least, was the man himself. Robert Downey Jr. He came as the popular game Cluedo. And boy did he look fancy. He wore a top hat that had a giant question mark stuck to it, and a tuxedo with a long sweeping tail attached to the jacket. Neatly placed all over his black suit were the names of the suspects, the names of the rooms and the names of the weapons - all written in white. He looked splendid.

“Twister. How unusual. I love it,” Robert said, the others nodded in agreement.

“Thanks, you all look incredible,” you said.

Little Tom held out his arm and led you to the dance floor where you spent the next hour dancing the night away. Big Tom and Hemsy were owning the dance floor with their moves. Many party classics blared through the speakers, including 5,6,7,8...which you knew the dance off by heart but RDJ had to be taught the moves by you and little Tom.

Another hour passed and you were sat with Scarlett, Liz and Paul in the other room where the music wasn’t so loud. Seb was with you but he had asked Liz to get him a drink and she played the uno reversal so now he was on drinks duty.

“Paul, can I borrow your suit just so I can literally look smarter?” You asked, he chuckled.

“Maybe I can just follow you around and relay the facts for you,”

“You could be the Yoda to my Luke. Though I think you’re too big to sit on my back,” you said.

“Here’s your punch,” said Seb, returning with two cups for him and Liz.

“Finally, what took you so long?” she asked.

“I stopped in the party room, Anthony and little Tom are having a competition to see who can do the macarena better,” he said.

“But...the macarena is the macarena…” you said, confused.

“Try telling them that. Tom insisted that the Brits do it better apparently.”

“Well, we do have some absolute bangers,” you chuckled. Paul agreed.

“So where did you get that dress?” Scarlett asked you.

“The joke shop down the highstreet. I was walking past it last week and found it in the window. Thought it would be perfect,” you shrugged.

“Until Mackie gets over excited and plays Twister on you,” Seb said.

“I’d like to see him try,” you replied.

“Ah, here’s the gang. What are you all doing in here?” Robert said, entering the room with big Tom and Evans.

“We’re just sat chatting….wait, have you left Holland and Mackie alone?” Seb asked.

“They’re fine, Chris is with them,” Tom replied. You tilted your head at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe I should check on them…” Tom said, you nodded and he left the room.

“Soooo, how’s it going?” Evans asked everyone.

“We’re all fine but Y/N is a bit twisted,” Seb said. Everyone laughed but you bonked him on the head, making the dice jolt.

“Oi!”

You giggled and slapped the plastic hat again, the dice landed on a 6.

“Eyy I get another go!” You cheered before bonking him on the head again. He sighed but chuckled.

“Well it’s nice to see her dressed as an actual board game,” Robert said, turning to Evans.

“Hey, that’s not fair! Noughts and crosses is a board game!” Evans protested.

“I wanna play,” you said. Evans smiled at you.

You got Liz to play with you and you went first. You decided to play as noughts and took the bottom left corner. After a few rounds, you got a straight diagonal line. You cheered as Liz huffed, but she congratulated you nonetheless.

“I wanna play pictionary now,” you said, turning to Scarlett. She smiled and handed you a whiteboard pen. You thought for a moment then began drawing.

You pressed down on Scarlett’s outfit to make sure you could draw properly. You ran the pen down her stomach and she giggled.

“Hey, careful, that tickles,” she said. You blushed and apologised but continued. Everytime the pen went over a certain spot Scarlett would giggle but she never flinched.

“Okay, I’m done,” you announced. Everyone leaned forward and groaned once they saw it.

“Really? You know none of us can say that,” Seb said.

“First one to say it correctly wins,” you shrugged. You had drawn Mjolnir, something that everyone struggled to say.

“Midge-oh-lair,” said Liz.

“Mjohn-ler,” said Seb.

“Me-joln-ier,” said Evans.

“Hey! It’s Mjolnir!” came a voice from the door. Hemsy had just walked in with Mackie, little Tom and big Tom.

“We have a winner,” you grinned and everyone groaned again.

“Okay now I wanna play snakes and ladders,” you said. You scrambled to your feet and launched yourself at Hemsy, climbing up his tall body and clinging to him like a koala. He laughed.

“Okay, and what do we do now?” He chuckled. You shrugged and hugged him tighter, he returned the favour.

“As nice as this is, princess, I can’t carry you around the rest of the evening,” Hemsy said.

“Alright, hang on. Gotta complete the game,” you said. You motioned big Tom to come nearer and leaned over to hug him. Your legs followed and wrapped around his waist before you slid down his body and landed on the floor. Tom laughed.

“Impressive,” he said. You lay flat at the floor and looked at him, giggling.

“You’re very playful today,” big Tom said.

“I’m just happy to be here,” you giggled, he smiled at you.

“Alright my turn, I wanna play twister,” Mackie said, launching himself at you.

“WAIT!” You cried, panicked by his sudden movement. Mackie didn’t listen.

“I’m not doing anything! I need someone to give me an instruction,” he said.

“Right foot red,” Seb said. Mackie lifted his foot and put it on the first red spot he could see, directly on your tummy. You giggled as he adjusted his foot, rubbing it against your tummy.

“Noho Anthony!”

He looked and realised what he was doing, then smirked and vibrated his foot on your tummy again. You giggled louder.

“The twister mat is making noises, how do I turn it off?” He asked.

“Um, try putting your left hand on yellow,” little Tom piped up. Mackie grinned as he spotted a yellow spot on your ribs. He put his hand down and gave them an “accidental” squeeze.

“Hehey!” You shrieked.

“Didn’t work Holland, anyone else?” Mackie said.

“Try right hand green,” Scar said, smirking. Mackie placed his right hand on the green spot on your side and squeezed again.

“Stohop!” You cried.

“Right well that didn’t work, and I can’t put my left foot on it otherwise I would break it. Any other ideas?” he said.

“You may have to push a few buttons, try turning it off and on again,” Paul said. Mackie squeezed your ribs and sides again and shook his foot on your tummy. You screeched loudly.

“Nope, still making noises,”

“Let me have a look,” Liz said. Mackie had you pinned below his hands and foot. You started to giggle as you felt a single finger run up your neck.

“Nonono Lizzie!” You squeaked as she dragged a nail up the other side.

“There must be an off button around here,” she teased. She gently scribbled all her nails into your neck. You scrunched up your shoulders and shrieked.

“NOHOHOHO!”

“Definitely not here, you sure it’s not there Mackie?” Lizzie asked. Mackie squeezed your ribs and sides again and your giggles turned to laughter.

“Nope, no no, that’s made it worse,” he said. “Someone try a blue spot!”

Evans jumped up and ran over to help. He found a blue spot right on your hip, he placed his hand over it and started squeezing.

“NAHAHAHAHAHA!” You screamed. Trying to buck your body was impossible with Mackie still pinning you.

“Dammit Evans you turned the volume up!” Mackie yelled.

“Maybe the problem lies outside of the mat itself,” big Tom piped up.

“What you saying Hiddleston? That we’re the problem?” Mackie asked.

“Not at all, just that there appears to be parts connected to the mat, but not part of the mat itself,” Tom said, putting his hand on his chin. He slowly approached you and swiped a single finger under your knee. You kicked it away.

“Now it’s malfunctioning,” Mackie informed him. Tom hummed and swiped a finger under your other knee. You kicked again. He then spider tickled under both your knees and you shrieked loudly.

“PLEHEHEASE I’M NOHOT BROKEN!” You screamed.

“God DAMN you made it talk!” Mackie yelled.

“I know what the issue is,” Robert said, stepping forward.

“Do go on?” big Tom said.

“You need to hit all the pressure points at once. It’s like a giant reset button, wear it down till it reboots itself,” he said. Everyone looked at each other.

“Position yourselves,” Robert instructed.

Mackie stepped off of your stomach and knelt by your left side, Seb knelt by your right. Lizzie was still up by your neck and big Tom by your knees. Scarlett was by your right shoulder, Paul by your left. Evans positioned himself by your hips, little Tom the other side by your thighs. Hemsworth and Robert sat next to your feet.

“Nonononono please!” You cried.

“Rebooting systems in 3…” Robert began.

“No please!”

“2…”

“Wait!”

“1…”

“No wait I’m not brOHOHOHOKEN!” You cried as everyone attacked you at once. No one was pinning you down but you could hardly twist and turn with 10 people tickling all your spots at once. They were all ruthless and yet...you sort of loved it.

“PLEHEHEHASE NOHOHOHO!” You cried, flailing your arms around. Mackie and Seb were squeezing up and down your sides and across your tummy, Lizzie was tickling deep into your neck, Scar and Paul had just caught an arm each and pinned it upwards so they could tickle your underarms, big Tom was scratching under your knees and squeezing the tops, Evans was squeezing and scribbling into your hips, little Tom was scratching up and down your thighs and Hemsy and Robert had grabbed a foot each to tickle. It was pure torture.

“KEEP GOING, IT’LL WEAR DOWN EVENTUALLY!” Robert yelled over your screams of laughter. Everyone picked up the speed and you screamed louder than ever before.

You now had your arms and legs pinned by Scar, Paul, Robert and Hemsworth so you tried to buck your hips as much as possible and scrunch up your shoulders to protect your neck but it was no use.

“NOHOHOHO MOHOHORE!” You cried. You let out another loud scream and fell into a silent laughter. Tears filled your eyes to the point where you couldn’t even see Lizzie kneeling over you.

“Reboot complete,” Robert instructed. He stopped tickling your foot and one by one the rest of the cast followed and ceased their attack. You lay there, taking in deep breaths of air.

“You alright twisty?” Mackie asked, sliding up to your head. You nodded, letting out residue giggles. Evans gave you a hand up and propped you up against the sofa.

“You...are...all...evil…” you breathed out. Everyone chuckled.

“You were in a playful mood, we wanted to join,” Evans said, winking at you.

“I never knew you were so ticklish,” Hemsworth said.

“So would you be if 10 people ganged up on you,” you replied. He laughed and nodded in agreement. Little Tom sat down next to you.

“You okay?” He asked, pulling you in for a hug. You nodded.

“Yeah...that was fun,” you clamped your mouth shut after realising what you just said.

“Fun eh?” little Tom teased, quickly spidering your side to make you giggle again.

“We had fun too if that’s any consolation? Could go for round two if you want,” big Tom said. You looked at him and smiled.

“Not today I don’t think, you guys well and truly broke me,” you said, everyone laughed.

“I think I’ve already decided on the theme for next year,” Robert said. Everyone turned to him.

“Tickle Me Y/N,” he said, “where everyone has to bring a random object to tickle Y/N with. First to make her say stop wins.” He winked at you and you blushed and hid your head in little Tom’s shoulder. He chuckled and stroked your head.

“Now that will be a fun theme,” Mackie replied.

#tickle fic #avengers cast tickle fic

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woogyu · 3 years ago

Note

Can I please have 4,5 and 8 with hyunjae 🥺

4. You're staring again

5. Wow. You look stunning

8. Don't smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy

»»————-　♡　————-««

notes; MIGHT HAVE NEARLY SOBBED WRITING THIS, THIS IS SO CUTE, AM DYING, HOPE YOU LIKE. Tbz and royalty aus are just a perfect match in my brain.

Thank you for requesting!!

wc; 1633

Drabble Game Requests | OPEN | Drabble Prompts; fluff | angst | funny

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You’re staring again,” Younghoon elbowed Hyunjae in the side, nearly causing the prince to drop his drink. Hyunjae shot a glance at his oldest friend, eyes wide as he was caught watching the far door.

“Was not,” Hyunjae mumbled, his cheeks tinged a light pink as he quickly averted his gaze anywhere else.

“She’ll be here.” Younghoon told him, voice softening as he realized what the prince was doing. Hyunjae didn’t respond, his attention now very focused on the glass in his hand. He had already brushed off half of the ladies at the ball, wanting to save his first dance for the special one he was waiting for.

“We are late because you spent so long with those hair curlers,” you hissed at your friend, hurrying up the palace stairs. “Beauty comes at the cost of time, my dear y/n,” the girl responded, batting her eyelashes at you. A smile threatened to pull at your lips as you rolled your eyes.

You were honestly foolish for even coming here, for assuming that the prince would be expecting you. He had his pick of all the unwed ladies attending, there was no way he would want to waste his time with you. It was really a miracle you had even spoken with him at all, a chance of fate some might say.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were here far too late, but the head baker had left you with a seemingly endless number of tasks to complete before you could leave. Granted, the tasks had been left to your entire team of bakers, however, as the youngest of the bunch they had graciously left them for you as an ‘initiation’. You supposed that taking advantage of the new staff was nothing new.

You worked on rolling out the dough for rolls, your arms screaming in pain after being worked for nearly 16 hours straight. Part of you wanted to leave, quit this job and go back to your town. Forget about your dreams of becoming head baker at the palace and admit to your family that they were right. Blinking back tears, you shook your head, no, you could do this. You wouldn’t let them force you out.

“Gods! You scared me half to death,” a voice cut through the silence, your eyes darting to a figure in the doorway. It was nearly 3am, no one should be awake right now.

“Don’t the baker's shift end at 6? You are either here very late or very early.” The voice commented, walking toward you. As they entered the light you realized, to your horror, that it was the prince. You were very aware of the fact that you were covered in flour and probably had horrendous dark circles under your eyes. You quickly wiped off your hands and bowed, your shoulders tensing up.

“Your Majesty” you greeted, voice wobbly and uncertain. He waved a hand, leaning against the counter you were working on.

“No need for the formalities…” he smiled at you and you could have sworn your heart jumped at the sight. “I don’t believe I’ve met you before… and I am a frequent visitor of the kitchens” he hummed, reaching under the counter to retrieve a glass before filling it with water.

“I just started working here… my name is y/n, your ma-“ a quick glance from him cut off your honorific. You shut your mouth and relaxed a little bit. You had always heard wonderful stories regarding the prince, both in reference to his kindness and beauty.

“You can call me Hyunjae” he said smoothly, chuckling when you quickly shook your head, mouth open in shock. You could never.

“So Miss y/n, what keeps you here so late or early?” he inquired, his eyes fixed on yours, nearly causing you to choke when you began to answer him. Why did your name have to sound so pretty on his lips?

“I stayed late to finish the work assigned to my t-“ you quickly cut off your words, you couldn’t rat out your team to the prince, that wouldn’t look good on you. “Assigned to me today” you quickly finished, hoping he did catch your slip up.

“Hmmm, a bakers’ assignment shouldn’t take into the night to finish” he mused lazily, moving around to stand next to you. He was quiet for a moment, sipping his water, either waiting for you to explain further or giving you time to think of a better answer. When you didn’t say anything he simply smiled and set his cup down, you were thankful he didn’t press the topic further.

“Would you like some help? I haven’t been able to fall asleep so perhaps a little bit of work might be good” he explained, causing your eyes to widen. You quickly shook your head, struggling to find out how to respond to such an offer. What sort of prince offered to help those working in his castle?

“I simply couldn’t… It wouldn’t be fit… You…” you struggled to supply, mind reeling with how close in proximity he was to you. This prince was going to be the death of you if he kept this up, your heart couldn’t handle it.

Hyunjae merely smiled at your weak protests, rolling up his sleeves and dousing his hands with flour. “An extra set of hands will make the work go faster” he offered, pulling off a piece of dough you had been kneading and began working it on the table.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You had been in shock that night, and the weeks after only showed you that the prince would not run out of ways to shock you further. Your nightly rendezvous in the kitchen became nearly a daily thing, him helping you with your tasks and the two of you chatting about everything and nothing.

You hadn’t planned on attending the ball, unsure if you would even be allowed to do so. Then Hyunjae asked, and you were learning that it was impossible for you to say no to him. He looked at you as if you weren’t a baker and him a prince, but as if you were just another lady and him just another gentleman.

That being said, you knew how foolish it was to come here tonight. Stolen moments in a dark kitchen were one thing, but a ball where there were dozens of other ladies in beautiful ball gowns… you wouldn’t stand a chance in your simple white lace dress. And yet, you found yourself utterly excited about the event, about the possibility and of course, about the prince.

“Thank you… for attending with me” you told your friend before the two of you stepped through the doors. “I don’t think I would have been able to do this alone” you admitted, sheepishly looking down at the floor.

“Don’t let the other ladies intimidate you y/n, you look absolutely stunning” your friend said with absolute certainty before pushing the large doors open.

You stepped through, the bright lights filling your vision before the ball came into view. Many eyes snapped up to yours before retreating, but as you slowly descended the stairs you found a pair of eyes focused entirely on you. Your cheeks flushed as you focused on not tumbling down the staircase, the prince maneuvering through the crowd to meet you at the bottom of the stairs.

Upon reaching the bottom you took Hyunjae’s outstretched hand, your eyes focused on him as the rest of the guests faded into the background.

“Wow.” He swallowed, his eyes momentarily flashing down to your feet and back to your eyes. “You look stunning” he breathed as your heart raced. You smiled softly, nervously glancing down at your gown.

“It was my mothers,” you said softly, unsure if why you had even said that as if he would care. He simply smiled at your words, leading you out onto the dance floor.

“She must be proud to have such a beautiful daughter” he commented, his eyes sparkling in the brightly lit room. You flushed once more, allowing him to lead you onto the ballroom floor.

“May I have this dance?” he asked, his eyes trained on you as he held out his hand. You nodded a little too quickly, not trusting your voice to provide him with a verbal answer. When he pulled you in close, you could have sworn that time itself paused around you. You were entirely unaware of what was going on outside of you and the prince.

“I saved my first dance for you… I am so very happy that you decided to come” he admitted, his lips close to your ear. Your breath hitched and you nearly tripped over your own feet. Not only had he been waiting for you, he hadn’t danced with anyone else… If your heart hadn’t been racing before it certainly was now.

When you didn’t answer he leaned back a little bit as he looked down at you wearing the most dazzling smile you had ever seen.

“Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy” you breathed before you could even register what you were saying. You flushed and his smile only grew… gods you could have sworn there were stars in his eyes.

“Like what?” he promoted, amusement swimming in his gaze. You look a steadying breath and brought your eyes back up to his, getting lost in the depth of them.

“Like I’m the only girl in the room” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. He let out a breathy laugh, his arms tightening around your waist.

“In my eyes, you are” he stated, the sincerity in his voice washing over you.

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hydroponicjj · 3 years ago

Text

No Body, No Crime [2]

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Female!Peterkin!Reader

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Mentions of Drugs/Alcohol, Swearing, etc

Summary: Rafe is finding himself having trouble trusting Y/N, even after what she did for him.

A/N: Hello! This is the second chapter of No Body, No Crime. Please enjoy and, let me know if you’d like to be on the taglist! <3

「 ₊˚.༄ 」

The entire drive over to Topper's made you extremely nervous. Your stomach felt as if it was in a knot that couldn't be undone.

It only got worse when you began to recognize the scenery of Figure 8.

It was unusual of you to be so anxious.

Usually, you’re hyper-focused. You don’t have time to worry about all the possible things that could go wrong but, Rafe made you feel different.

Typically, the two of you would only interact in passing. Oftentimes in the kitchen at his house when you needed him to help you reach something on the top shelf.

Now, you’re about to see each other in a brand new light. Going from strangers to...

Honestly, you didn’t really know how to classify this blossoming relationship, considering it hasn’t started yet.

Turning a corner into a neighborhood, you recognized Topper's mansion almost immediately.

It was the second house on the right with pillars and a baby blue door. There were tiny American flags pitched in the yard with small lights showcasing their entrance.

There were so many cars parked on the street and in the driveway that it was nearly impossible for you to get close without clipping a vehicle.

Finding a good spot near the sidewalk, you emerged from your car, making sure to check that it was locked (a habit you learned from your mother).

Drawing closer to the front door, you spotted Rafe.

He was sitting ominously in a rocking chair on the porch, looking out into the yard.

"Hey." You called out. He broke from his intense gaze and glanced at you.

"Shit, I totally forgot that you were coming." He pinched the bridge of his nose, turning his head.

"Well, I'm here so.." You trailed off, taking a seat next to him.

Instantly, Rafe began to draw away from you. You noticed but refrained from commenting on it, not knowing what his problem was.

It wasn't long after that the tension started to fill the air. You’re usually the one keeping your distance from him, not vice versa.

“Are-Are you going to say anything?” You asked, nervously.

You had no idea what made his energy shift from the last time you spoke to him but, this wasn’t the same Rafe that you saw that afternoon.

“What do you want me to say?” He replied sharply, glancing over in your direction.

You were taken aback by him, “Rafe. You asked me to meet you here. I have no idea what the hell is going on. So, I just— I wanna know what’s happening.”

He froze, inhaling deeply. It was clear that he was searching for the right words to say that would get his message across.

“Y/N, I don’t trust you. You might be Sarah’s best friend but, you’re also the sheriffs' daughter.” His voice was cold and distant.

He genuinely viewed you as some kind of threat. Less than 7 hours ago, he was more than willing to rope you into whatever he had going on, and now, you’re just a burden to him.

You scoffed, “You seemed pretty happy to get your drugs back this afternoon. Was I the sheriffs' daughter then?”

“I stole from my mom, Rafe. That’s not something you just do for fun. Especially when you have a lot to lose on your end, okay. So, if I rat you out, I’m going down too.”

Guilt instantly flashed behind his blue eyes. It was evident as his features began to soften and he lowered his eyebrows.

He began to speak but, you cut him off, “Listen, Rafe, I don’t expect us to go out and get matching tattoos anytime soon but, we have to learn to trust each other, or else this thing isn’t going to work.”

He chuckled lightly, flashing you a crooked smile, “Yeah.” Rafe replied simply.

The loud booming of music coming from inside filled the silence.

“Didn’t you graduate high school yesterday?” Rafe asked, quirking his head to the side.

“Yeah... I-I did.” You replied, still surprised.

You weren’t valedictorian like your mother planned but, you were pretty damn close. Still, it wasn’t enough to satisfy Susan Peterkin so, you spent the entirety of graduation sulking.

You didn’t even get a chance to enjoy your High School graduation.

A sour taste formed in your mouth as your throat began to get tighter by the second.

Rafe noticed your sudden discomfort, “Well, you’re at a party. Why don’t you go inside and have fun? Celebrate the milestone.”

“You should celebrate too. I mean- finishing your first year of college.” You acknowledged, awkwardly trying to shift the conversation toward him.

“I took a gap year. Too many things to do and not enough time.” He shrugged.

You were so entranced by the way Rafe spoke. He wasn’t like you, who felt the need to give the deepest, most profound explanation for everything.

He was simple.

You liked simple.

Standing up, you extended your hand in his direction, “Come on,” you paused, grabbing him by the wrist, “We’re going inside.”

“No no no,” he protested, “I already told my friends I was leaving so,” Rafe resisted your grasp, staying firmly in his seat.

“I think we can handle Topper and Kelce.” You scoffed, giving him a playful look.

Rafe knit his eyebrows together, contemplating. It had already been an extremely long night. But, he was having a hard time pulling out the response from his chest.

"Shitttt," He drew out, "What the hell. It'd be nice to see you pull the stick out of your ass and relax."

Eyes lighting up and a smile tugging on your lips, you yanked on his wrist again. This time, he rose from the rocking chair, peering down at you, "Don't make me regret this, Peterkin."

"How could you possibly regret anything when you're with me?" You sent him a sly wink.

Twisting the front-door handle, you entered the Thorton household.

Your senses were instantly triggered. Your ears struggled to determine which was louder, the music or screaming of teenagers. Your eyes reacted to the fluorescent light projected on the ceiling.

The scent was absolutely putrid. Sweaty bodies and alcohol were not a good mixture, not under any circumstances.

"Ugh," Covering your nose with your right hand, you peered back at Rafe. He seemed completely fine.

This was normal for him.

Watching as he maneuvered around this situation with such ease inspired you.

Rafe was a complete mystery to you. Although with every interaction, he became less of a riddle, it was still a challenge trying to figure him out.

Abruptly, someone from behind you yelled, tearing you from your trance, "I said that you'd be back!"

Turning around, you saw Kelce and Topper making their way towards the two of you.

"Yeah, yeah," Rafe responded, playfully, drifting closer to his two friends.

A mere seconds later, Topper noticed you standing at a feeble 1 and a half feet shorter than Rafe.

"Holy shit," He gasped, "A-Are my eyes deceiving me, or is Y/N Peterkin at a party?"

This caught Kelce's attention and, he certainly couldn't resist making a sly comment, "How's your mom? Is she still 6 feet up the Pogues ass or....?"

Scoffing, you began to walk away but, something caught your shoulder.

"Listen, she's a bitch but, not as nearly as much as you think." Rafe defended.

You couldn't help but laugh, “Thanks.”

Yes, it was a shitty, backhanded compliment. But, it was coming from Rafe Cameron so, that's the best you're gonna get.

"Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it," Commented Kelce, turning his head to look around at the scenery.

“Rafe,” Topper paused, “Are you trying to get even more fucked up tonight?”

Glancing at Rafe, you noticed how tired he looked. Drooping eyes and hunched shoulders gave away how he was feeling.

“No, he has other priorities on his mind.” You chimed in.

“Ohhhhhhhh.” Kelce raised his eyebrows.

Wiggling two fingers between the two of you, “Are you guys....? You know?”

“Shut the fuck up, Kelce. You’re a goddamned idiot.” Rafe rolled his eyes, pushing his friend lightly.

“Relax. I’m not gonna swoop in on your girl. Just curious who you’re fucking this week.”

Glancing up at Rafe, he appeared extremely fed up with the current conversation.

“Come on, man,” Topper said, pulling Kelce by the shoulder, “Let’s leave these two alone. I’m sure they’ve got loads of shit to catch up on.”

The two walked out of the entryway, side by side, and floated right back into the epicenter of the party.

“Why do you do that?” You questioned, almost instantly.

Looking in your direction, he responded, “What are you talking about?”

Sighing, you began, “You willingly hang out with Dumb and Dumber,”

“You could be surrounded by people that are on the same intellectual level as you. Yet, you surround yourself with people like those 2 that are only interested in being so high that they can’t remember their name.”

Rafe shook his head, “It doesn’t matter.”

There he goes again. Being simple. Summing up everything he has to say in a mere 3 words.

"He deserves better than that." You thought but didn't say.

In your head, you could see Rafe walking away from the conversation and, you wanted him as close as possible (because you're not used to parties.... no other reason.... of course).

"This is stressing me out," You commented jokingly, running your hands through your hair.

If you weren't so hyperaware of your surroundings, you would've missed the way that Rafe was glancing at you.

He looked as if he was trying to decipher what was going on in your head.

“Come on.” He nodded his head in the direction of the living room (aka where 90% of the party-goers were).

You grinned slightly, “I was deprived of partying my entire 4 years of High School. I don’t think I should start now.”

You turned around and sat on the love seat in the Thornton entryway.

“You dragged me back in here so, the least you could do is sway your hips to some shitty music.”

“Maybe.” You smirked, teasing him.

“Alright, I’ll find Topper and Kelce. I’m sure they’ve got something interesting for me.” Rafe began to exit the room.

“Fine,” you rose from your seat immediately, catching his attention.

You shook your head in disapproval, “So manipulative.”

A smug look was plastered on Rafe’s face, “Yeah, well.... it worked.”

He shrugged and sent you a smirk.

「 ₊˚.༄ 」

You had never felt so free in your entire life.

It was surprising that such a wild atmosphere made you feel a sense of comfort and enjoyment, rather than fear and anxiety.

Maybe it was the fact that you clung to Rafe for the majority of the time.

He was such a social hotspot.

People of all ages and demographics were speaking to him. He kept the conversations brief and, it was clear that he wasn't very interested.

Nevertheless, he was dragged into a game of beer pong, and (with the help of Topper and Kelce) he agreed to play BUT, only if you did.

At first, you were hesitant, having no idea how to play but, there was something inside of you that hated the thought of saying no to Rafe.

You indulged him and decided to play, with the exception that you didn't drink, considering that you had to drive back home to the Cut.

It took a few tries for you to actually get the hang of things but, Rafe helped a lot.

He would often adjust your form, wrapping his arm around your waist and tugging you in another direction.

It made you nervous yet excited having him in such close proximity to you, whispering in your ear which direction to throw the ball.

Ultimately, the two of you ended up winning against Topper and Kelce (who were pissed that they lost to such an inexperienced player).

That was the beginning of the fun.

After that, you didn't feel the need to cling to Rafe as tight as you had been before.

You went off and had conversations with people that didn't go to your High School, which also meant they had no clue who your mother was.

You used to be extremely familiar with Figure 8 and you often found yourself missing it from time to time.

It was very nice to be able to surround yourself with people that weren't foaming at the mouth to run and tell your mother everything they saw.

It wasn't until you began to dance, swaying your hips to the beat that Rafe found you again.

"Y/N, I--I need a ride home." He began, speaking in a low but rushed tone.

"What?!" You yelled, not being able to hear him over the music.

You took a glance at him and, he looked horrible.

His eyes were extremely red and he reeked of alcohol and plenty of other illegal substances.

Not only that but, Rafe seemed extremely jittery. Almost as if something bad was going to happen if he didn't leave immediately.

Seeing the stress of the situation, you gripped Rafe by the arm and tugged him out of the hectic scene and into the nearest quiet room.

Finding a bathroom right before the kitchen, the two of you entered.

You sat him on the edge of the tub, crouching in front of him.

"Rafe," You paused, clutching the sides of his face, "Look at me. What's going on?"

Opening his eyes, he began to speak, "Please, just, please. Take me home." He buried his head into your shoulder.

You were stunned by his actions, having no idea what drug he took that made him act like that.

But, now was not the time to question Rafe, he needed your help and after all the progress the two of you made that evening, you weren't going to leave him behind.

"O-okay, okay. Yes, I'll take you home."

You stood up, continuing to hold his arm, afraid that he'd fall back into the tub.

"Rafe, can you stand? Can you walk?" You asked.

He nodded then rose, towering over you.

"Here," You directed him towards the sink, "Splash some cold water onto your face, okay?"

He did as you told him, gathering a scoop of water in his palms and splattered it onto his face.

After, he seemed slightly more coherent but, not nearly enough.

The two of you emerged from the bathroom. You were still clung to his arm, leading him in the direction of the exit.

Once, you left the inside of the house, you were bombarded with cars from all angles.

It then hit you that you had to park on the street.

As you led Rafe down the infinitely long driveway, you cursed in your head, upset at the universe for making you work against gravity in order to keep him from face-planting.

Finally, making it to your car, you reached in your pocket and unlocked it.

Opening the door to the passenger's side, you plopped Rafe in the seat and buckled him in.

You ran around the front of the car, trying to get back to Rafe as soon as possible.

"Rafe, do you have everything? Your phone, wallet, keys?"

"Mhm." He replied, setting his head on the back of the seat.

With that, you took one last glance at Rafe and put the car in drive.

「 ₊˚.༄ 」

Pulling into the driveway, you noticed that the Cameron household was quiet.

The only light coming from inside was the glare of the TV from Wheezie's room.

"Rafe, we're here." You said, shaking him. He had fallen asleep seconds after you started driving.

He didn't waste any time getting out of the car. Unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the door, he headed in the direction of the garage.

As he approached, it opened.

"I know they're rich but, damn, motion detected garage?" You commented, continuing to watch, making sure Rafe made it inside safely.

It wasn't until you started saw him stop that you noticed a figure standing in front of him.

It was Ward Cameron.

"Shit."

You knew Ward was going to give Rafe crap for staying out late, partying so, the least you could do was try and cover for him.

Emerging from your car, you walked towards the garage.

"Rafe, I need you to do it, okay? I don't want Sarah getting involved-" You caught the end of what Ward was saying before he stopped.

"Y/N!" He greeted, a smile on his face.

"Hey, Mr.Cameron." You waved awkwardly, sending a forced smile.

"Thank you so much for bringing this one home," He grabbed Rafe by the shoulder, pulling him into a side hug.

"No problem! I just needed his help with some things. The least I could do was take him home." You replied.

"Yeah, yeah," Ward nodded his head, looking back at the door.

"Listen, Y/N, thanks for putting in a good word with your mom. We really appreciate it."

"I'm sorry?" You knit your eyebrows in confusion.

"I got a call from the station today saying the charges against Rafe had been dropped. All of us are so thrilled that we can resume a normal life and move past this." He placed a hand on his chest.

You had no idea what he was talking about. Your mom wasn't home yet. There was no way she could've seen the drugs had been taken from her safe yet.

But, you had to play it cool, not wanting Ward to ask any questions "Sure, sure." you answered.

"Okay, welp," He paused, "Have a nice night, Y/N. Come by tomorrow and see us." Ward finished, hurridly.

With that, he turned around swiftly and went back inside his house, through the garage door.

That entire interaction was odd. You had never seen Ward act so tense.

Also, you couldn't help but wonder what was so urgent that Sarah couldn't do?

It had been less than 24 hours and, you're already wrapped up in things you couldn't begin to comprehend.

"I need to sleep."

Walking back to your car, you entered the driver's seat.

Putting the car in reverse, you exited the Cameron house and began your journey back to the Cut.

TAGLIST *strikethrough it won’t let me tag*: @oopsiedoopsie23 @a-bolanos @cocobutterqween @gabiatthedisco @athenastarkey @halsmultibitch @water13 @avaspringtime @niamhvivo @haterpenny @nerdypartytrashpsychic @casually-kook @mynameberose @malfoylaufeysonweasley

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eveningstar1516 · 3 years ago

Text

Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 8

Rise of the Demon King

Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously:

His brothers would always know whenever he went to see her as he’d always come back with a content smile on his face. Deep down, he wished that Y/N could’ve met Cynthia. They would have made great friends as they were the only 2 people who could make him smile like this. Mammon may not have been able to save Y/N, but he swore that he would protect Cynthia, no matter the cost.

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

CHAPTER 8 - The Great Pancake Debate (2261 words)

It’s been almost 6 months since you arrived in the Celestial Realm. Needless to say, you are quite certain that these last 6 months have been the craziest and stressful months of your life! When you told Simeon and Luke about you staying here, to say they were ecstatic would be an understatement. Luke jumped for joy and wouldn’t stop rambling about all the fun you were going to have. When you told them about God appointing them to help teach you about the Realm, Luke practically did a double take and it took an hour to calm him. Now you have Simeon teaching you about politics and Luke about how to use your wings and powers. On your second day there, Michael woke you up, or well came to get you as you didn’t get any sleep. Turns out, while the Devildom is constant at night, the Celestial realm is constant day and thanks to the floor to ceiling windows, there was no way for you to stop sunlight from coming in. You were introduced to the council at breakfast. Note to self, the brothers breakfasts are QUIET AND PEACEFUL compared to Archangels off duty. The first thing you saw were 2 angels passionately arguing over which pancake topping was the best, strawberries or blueberries. At some point a third angel cut in claiming chocolate chips were the best and all heaven (would you replace hell with heaven here? idk) broke loose. As for me, I just started chuckling in disbelief while making my way over to pick up a pancake of my own when the angel arguing on behalf of the strawberries saw you.

“Hey kid, what topping do you prefer, strawberries, blueberries, or chocolate chips? It’s strawberries right?”

“Actually, I prefer them plain with maple syrup. Although if Satan was the one making it, I’d go for the one with poison berries. Contrary to their name, they’re not actually poisonous and quite sweet.” All the angels present looked at me with a mix of shock and disbelief, save for Michael who just sat there eating his breakfast hoping to leave soon and get to work.

“Kid, did you say Satan?” The angel arguing on behalf of blueberries asked. “Yeah… Blond hair, teal eyes, Avatar of Wrath, Luci’s son? Ring a bell?” Turning to Michael, blueberry angel asked,

“Micheal, who are they and why are they wearing Lucifer’s old get up?” “This is Y/N. They will be staying here and taking Samael’s spot on the council until their agreement with Father ends and they return to the Devildom. Father has asked us to teach them about how our Realm operates and how to successfully fulfill Samael’s former position flawlessly, unless they want to return now and leave heaven early?” Michael turned towards you with a smirk on his face as he asked the last part.

“Very funny Mike. You and I both know I won’t do that no matter how bad you want me to.”

“What did I say about calling me that?!” Micheal’s smirk turned into something short of a snarl.

“Well, if you won’t take me seriously, neither will I. You want me to call you by your name, earn it and stop being an butt… I meant an butt… Why can’t I swear?!”

“This is the Celestial Realm Y/N. Angels don’t swear.” Michael said smugly over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“God Dang it! Argh! Fudge!. Dang it! Ya know what, forget it, my entire mood is ruined. Thanks Michael!”

“Anytime.”

Shooting Michael one last glare, I sighed and turned to the rest of the baffled angels in the room.

“Yes, what Michael said is true. Stuff happened in the Devildom which I will not get in too-”

“The demon king made Samael kill them.”

“Ok, Mike, first off, he didn’t, I ordered him too, second, I thought I said I didn’t want to talk about it. What gives you the right to tell them huh?”

“I felt like it.”

“You son of a beach.” I turned back to the rest of the angels. “Not a word about it. Anyway, due to some personal issues, I made a deal with Father to stay here on the condition that I take over Lucifer’s spot on the council until he either kicks me out or until our agreement has ended.”

“If I may, when will this agreement of yours be over?” The blueberry angel asked.

“I will be returning to the Devildom once Lord Diavolo has been crowned king and his father is 100% out of the picture. Now if you don’t mind me asking, could you introduce yourselves?” “Oh how rude of us, I’m sorry, I am Gabriel.” Gabriel had chestnut brown medium length hair, reaching shoulders. His eyes were a dull green. He wore a white turtleneck and had a light green shawl with golden tassels. He pointed to the strawberry angel. “This is Raphael and he’s Uriel.” He pointed to the chocolate chip angel. Raphael had long reddish-orange hair put up in a high ponytail. His eyes were a stormy gray. He wore a simple light gray half sleeve with an off the shoulder white cape and little decor. Uriel had short gray hair and golden eyes that almost seemed to sparkle. He wore something that reminded you of an off white scholar's robe with gray accents. “These are Saraqael, and Raguel.” He pointed to 2 of the quieter angels who didn’t participate in “the great pancake debate”. “We make up the Archangel council and we’re happy to have you Y/N.” Gabriel finished off with a smile. You were just barely able to make out a little “Not all of us” from Michael. You decided to ignore it, and then, like all the decisions you’ve ever made, it was the wrong one. Sitting back down you asked,

“So, quick question. What started The Great Pancake Topping debate?”

Breakfast ended 2 hours later with upset angels, and pancakes, everywhere…

In the Devildom. After they lost Y/N

Levi went straight to his room as soon as they got home. As soon as he closed and locked the door he went straight to Henry’s fishbowl, picked it up and sat in his bathtub, hugging the bowl as he cried. ‘Why do I feel like this?! I only like 2D characters and Ruri-chan, not 3D people. How do I miss them?... Why did they leave me? They were my player 2.’ “Well it makes sense, no one would want to stay with a worthless shut in of an otaku like me” he said to the empty room. Henry 2.0 glubbed a bubble in response. “You wouldn’t leave me, would you Henry?” *Glub* “No you wouldn’t… I miss them.” Levi stayed in his tub hugging Henry 2.0 until he fell asleep.

Present

It was another late night, Levi was bingeing a new anime ‘I fell in love with a 3D girl but I’m afraid she’ll leave me after finding out that I’m an otaku who rarely leaves their room’ . He was halfway through the 9th episode when he got a notification from Mononoke Island. One of his raid mates was stuck and needed some help. He paused his marathon to help his fellow mate and stayed up until the early hours of the morning switching between playing Mononoke and watching his anime. Stumbling into the dining room for breakfast the next morning, he was met with complete silence. Lucifer had left early, Belphie was asleep, Beel was too absorbed in eating, Satan in his book and Asmo on his phone to even notice him enter the room. Mammon was busy in the human world helping out sone witches. Levi sat down in his normal spot, taking whatever was left as he mentally prepared himself for the day. As soon as the bell rang, signaling the end of the day at RAD, still dressed in his uniform, Levi left as quickly as he could. There was an anime expo happening in the human realm right now and there was some ultra-rare limited edition Ruri-chan merch being sold there. He had gotten Lucifer’s permission to attend the expo so long as he was back by 11. Existing the portal and making his way to the expo, Levi thought about the last expo he attended with Y/N. They cosplayed as Erin and Levi from Attack on Titan and spent the entire day surrounded by fellow anime nerds. They had also booked a room at a nearby hotel. It was 3 days of bonding time for them. Entering the expo, Levi decided he would get something for them as decor for their headstone put in memory of them in the backyard of the House of Lamentation. Nearing the line for Ruri-chan merch, Levi noticed someone staring intensely at him. He decided to ignore them but keep a loose eye on them, just in case. He got to the front of the line and purchased 4 of the Ruri-chan collection kits. One for use, one for display, one to keep and sell in the future, and one for Y/N. He decided to wander around a little more to see if anything else would catch his eye while he was here. He spotted a Black Butler station and remembered the jokes he and Y/N would crack about Barbatos and Sebastian. He passed a Fate/Stay Night stand and remembered their conversations on which heroic class they would belong to. Levi would have been the perfect Lancer. He passed countless other stalls, each of them holding a memory he made with Y/N. Distracted by his trip down memory lane, Levi forgot all about the person stalking him. He went and purchased some dinner from one of the stalls before sitting down and pulling out his DDD and looked at some pictures of Y/N and him at their last expo. He didn’t look up from his phone until he felt someone sit opposite of him. Levi looked up to see some middle aged man just sitting there on his phone. He didn’t have any food, merch, or even look like someone interested in an anime expo. Feeling an uncomfortable aura emitting from this man, Levi got up and left. He took a quick look over his shoulder and saw that the man wasn’t following him. He left the expo and went down an alleyway to open up a portal back to the Devildom when he accidentally bumped into someone dropping his purchases.

“S-sorry”

“That’s quite alright.” The stranger extended a hand out to let him up. “Say, I’d love to know where you got your uniform from. No schools around here have uniforms like that one.”

Looking up, Levi saw the same man that was watching him with a twisted smile. Masking his fear, he mumbled an excuse about being in a rush and tried to dash around him. Before he could get 2 steps down the alley, the man grabbed him and pushed him further into the alleyway. Levi’s head struck the wall hard leaving him dazed for a moment.

“I didn’t think my intel about finding a RAD attendee at the expo would be true but whaddya know? Seems I caught myself a demon.”

Levi, now more aware of his surroundings, realized he was cornered by a demon hunter. Despite being in an alleyway, there were too many people around for him to do anything rash. Without missing a beat, the hunter pulled out an enchanted dagger aiming straight for Leviathan’s heart. Levi rolled and dogged last minute before colliding into someone’s chest. That person in question wrapped his arms around Levi’s chest and put their own dagger to his throat.

“I know you’re there! Come on out and I might spare your friend's life!” The hunter holding Levi yelled. When no one stepped out, the dagger held by Levi’s neck began pushing on his skin. Levi felt a flare of pain and against his better judgement, transformed. His tail wrapped around hunter 2’s leg and flipped him over while the first hunter charged at him, only to be blown to the ground as a powerful gust of wind knocked him over.

“Jeez Levi, you’re lucky I was here. Seriously, why didn’t ya do somethin’ earlier? Maybe then I wouldn’t have ta save yo ass.” Mammon stepped out from the darkness with a bored look on his face.

“Come on, Lucifer’s waiting for ya back home. LOOK OUT!” Levi turned around just in time to see Hunter number 2 taking a swing at his neck and managed to duck just in time. Mammon then charged over punching the hunter square in the face, knocking him out cold.

“T-thanks M-mammon.”

“No problem. Come on, let’s get ya back home before any more of them show up.”

Stepping through the portal, a question plagued Levi’s mind.

“Mammon, how did you know I was in trouble?”

“Some witches summoned me. I overheard them talk about some hunter group getting a tip about a possible demon being at some expo. Then I realized that it was the same one you were going to, so I decided to go there myself to make sure ya weren’t followed. I’m glad I did too.”

“Th-thank you Mammon. Really.”

“Of course, what are big brothers for. Anyway, about my payment, maybe you can forget about the money I owe ya?”

Groaning, Levi started walking faster, leaving Mammon and his whining behind as he made his way back to the safety of his room.

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stylesann · 3 years ago

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Rebuilding

Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Summary: Steve decides to go back to the 40’s and you hurt.

Warnings: idk? Angst but happy ending

A/N: I have no idea what this is but aaa I feel like it’s bad lol, I just always get in a very angsty and dramatic mood every time that I read a story about Steve leaving so I wanted to do my own twist? Idk, and it’s been yeaaaars since I don’t write anything and also I’m not a native English speaker so I apologise any mistakes. Comments are always welcome 💕 -> written in around 15/04/2021; ->posted 28/05/2021

Masterlist

You stare at the ocean and release all the air you were holding on your lungs. You still felt your body heavy but at least your tears had stoped. You’re fighting hard to keep your thoughts out of your head, to keep your mind calm like the scenario in front of you, an empty beach with the ocean waves rhythmically hitting the shore. The sky had a lot of clouds and it would probably rain soon, but you didn’t mind, it matched you mood.

You could say you were surprised but all you felt was disappointment, sadness and if you were being honest, you felt anger and jealousy. What Peggy had that you didn’t? I mean, you didn’t know the answer and you were sure if you had asked Steve he wouldn’t be able to give you one cause he had spent such a short amount of time with her that he couldn’t be able to actually know all of her. All her flaws, all the quirks. In the past you had thought he didn’t even loved her anymore and was just in love with an image, an illusion he had from his past. But for him to had left you for her you weren’t even sure of that anymore.

You also felt used, replaceable, like you were just kept there cause he couldn’t do better, cause he couldn’t be with her. And now that he could he just tossed you away. You knew Steve wasn’t that kind of guy, but thats how you felt. And no one could tell you how you should feel or deal with it.

So that’s what lead you here. It had all happened hours ago. You saw his old self in that bench and you just felt numb. Bucky tried to hold you, he said that Steve wanted to talk to you but you just left. You had that right didn’t you? You didn’t care about what he had to say, it was all bullshit. You didn’t care about his guilt, or how sorry he was. You didn’t even care to go back to the apartment you shared with him, because you knew if you had gone there you would be stared by a hundred pictures you had with him.

You just wanted to get away. So here you came. You look down to the wedding band on you finger and the engagement ring. You wore both together but it didn’t make sense to have them anymore. You didn’t want any memories from Steve on you so you take them out and feel their light weight on you palm. You knew this was it, it was your way of closure, of ending that part of you life. You take a deep breath and throw them at the sea. There’s no way of seeing them drown but just the thought that you didn’t have them anymore made you lighter.

You turn around, ready to go back to the car that brought you here but you see a familiar figure blocking the way. Bucky.

“How are you feeling, doll?” he says approaching you. You didn’t know how long he was standing there or what he had seen. You wonder if he could see how empty and drained you really were.

“In the moment I’m not feeling anything. I think I’m still mostly numb. But that’s probably for the best, right?” You try to give him a light answer knowing that he lost his best friend too. How could Steve have left him after fighting so long to have him back was beyond you. “Did you know? Did you know what he was gonna do?”

“I did” that was all it took for the tears to start falling from your eyes. Why had Steve told him and not you? You were his wife for gods sake didn’t you deserve at least this? Bucky reaches for you but you push him away.

“Why didn’t h-he tell me? Why did he d-do this?” you hiccup between the words, the tears falling harder than before.

“I think he just didn’t have the guts to. You know he loves you, Y/N-“

“Screw him! If he did, he wouldn’t have done this!” All the feelings you were trying to push down seem to come to surface and tighten their grip on your chest. “I can’t understand why you aren’t angry? Why aren’t you feeling betrayed?”

“He didn’t leave me alone Y/N, he asked us to take care of each other” he has a pleading look on his face while he says that, and you see that the difference between you and him is that he had some time to come to terms with his friends decision, he’s sad but keeping it to himself. He’s trying to be strong for everyone one else who didn’t know, for you mostly.

“I don’t care about what he asked. I’m not staying and I’m not doing what he would want me too. I’m always gonna be there for you Buck, not because he’s wants that but because I care about you. Whatever you need you can call, even if it’s just for a chat, but I’m not staying, i can’t. I am getting into that car and I’m gonna drive away as much as i can, and I’m only stopping when I feel like I’ve put miles between me and this” you say more calm than you were minutes before. You had a plan, it may not be the best one but that’s what you had for now. You didn’t want to be in the same place you lived with Steve, you didn’t want to see the same scenarios you saw with him, you wanted nothing from him. Maybe it was bitter of you, or maybe you didn’t have the best coping mechanism but you needed the distance.

Bucky’s expression seemed to sadden a bit but he understood, he knew this wasn’t easy for you. “I don’t want to change your mind about leaving, so I say the same, if you need anything you call Y/N, got it?” He says as he hugs you firmly.

“Got it” you say in whisper against his shoulder, his arms still around you delaying the last moments he’s gonna have with another friend. You hate to be doing this, he didn’t deserve it you knew it, but you also knew that he wouldn’t be willing to accompany you on your trip, and it was something that you needed to do alone. You were alone.

“You know he wouldn’t have done this if he didn’t know you you be able to rebuild your life, right? You’re a strong person” He uses the same tone of voice you had, he probably just didn’t want to trigger you into making your feelings rise again.

“Everyone has the ability to rebuild themselves, Buck. The fact that I’m strong shouldn’t make what he did alright. And I don’t feel much strong now... I just feel like I’m a shell. And even if I do find someone else, how am I going to let them in? How am I supposed to trust anyone with my heart, when the guy I gave all my heart before completely destroyed me?” A single tear fall from your eye, but you hold the rest back. “I’m going to be fine but I don’t even know what that mean anymore.” He just nods to this, and I know there’s nothing left to be said so I head to the car and take a deep breath holding the wheel. This is it.

I look at Bucky while I drive away, he’s still standing where I left him and I hope with everything on me that he will be fine too. Whatever that means.

****************************

The sun is harsh on your eyes slipping through the curtains open frames. You turn your head to the other side and you feel a heavy weight on your waist stopping you from moving further than that. You slowly open your eyes to see Franks figure with his arm on you and his head drowned on the pillow.

You turn again to look at the clock to see it marking 8:47 am. Mary would be up soon, so you slip from Frank taking extra care not to wake him up and head to the kitchen to make a quick breakfast.

“Y/N! Y/N! Can we have pancakes today?!” Mary breaks into the small kitchen excitedly jumping around. Today you and Frank would be taking her to her new math club and she couldn’t be more anxious about it.

“What is going on here” Franks rough morning voice appears on the room. He’s rubbing his eyes and seems to be sleeping still.

“We are making Mary her favourite pancakes for breakfast” you answer them as you get the ingredients on the counter. Mary hugs you and sits straight on the table waiting for you to prepare them.

It had been 6 years since the day you left New York and ended up traveling for a long time through the country only to end up here. Florida. It was hot all the time, you always felt warm but it was distant enough from your past and you felt better about it. You decided that you wanted to rent a small place near the beach and so you found a woman named Roberta, that rented a few houses that fulfilled your wish. You didn’t think twice before accepting her deal.

You weren’t carrying anything on you except for the few clothes that you had bought on your journey so the move was quite simple. And you weren’t expecting to fit in so well here but the fact that as soon as you were settled a little girl, who was maybe 7 at the time, had come to you with a lot of questions that honestly you couldn’t answer warmed you up to the place real fast.

The fact that Mary had managed to always meet up with you but you still had to meet Frank was beyond you. She talked a lot about him “Frank did this today”, “oh did you know Frank let me adopt another cat”, “the first cat Frank got us was Fred, he has only one eye”, and so on. You knew more about him that you probably would by talking to him in person, according to Mary herself. She said he was very closed but had a great heart, she even told you the story about him fighting in justice for her guard. It only made you think he was a great guy who would do anything to protect his niece, and you were sincerely excited to meet him, give the person a face.

However, as it appears that his schedule was always all over the place and you always waking around town and spending many hours on the beach didn’t help with your meeting. You didn’t understand at first too how Mary always found you around, but she explained that whenever she wasn’t studying and Frank was going out with his girlfriend Boni, she stayed with her friend Roberta, who quickly became a good acquaintance of yours.

Either way, Mary had been talking to you for weeks when you finally met Frank. You couldn’t believe your eyes and genuinely thought you were delusional. He looked just like Steve, but the moment he started speaking you could see the differences between the two and the helped you find your foot again.

In the beginning you were hesitant about spending time with Mary and Frank, who surprised Mary with the news that he had gotten a more stable job. According to him, he still fixed boats but for a company that payed well. You were happy for him but the memories his face brought still made you want distance.

During the four years you traveled around you had let him go, all of him. You had been trough all the grief stages and learnt how to do well with your own company, you didn’t need anyone else. But looking at his face had the effect of hitting you with a sad resigned feeling and you didn’t like it. But Mary always spoke so highly of her uncle that you knew keeping your distance from both because of memories wasn’t fair.

Frank, of course notice that you never iniciantes any conversation with him and he wondered if Mary had introduced the same woman she said was talkative and affectionated. He asked you about it and it wasn’t until you answered with sincerity that he understood. Since then he was more careful in your presence which you appreciated.

With time though, you warmed up to him, he was a good guy you never doubted that. You became close friends and when him and Boni broke up you helped him. It was a mutual break up but it’s never easy.

You friendship was going great until you notice him treating you differently than he would before and you realised he was slowly catching feelings for you. Obviously being romantically involved with him was the last thing you wanted but you couldn’t bring yourself to change the way things were going between you two and that’s what led you to this moment.

In a car, dropping Mary off to her math club, with Frank by your side and the promise that it would be okay. It had to. You took so long to let him in that now you didn’t want to let go, and you doubt Frank wanted anything but stay. Bucky said the same when he came to visit you and Frank. You look at him and you see him smile at you.

“You think he’s gonna be a mini genius?” He asks looking at the small bump on your belly.

“If he gets MY genes, obviously” I sass laughing.

“Ha, you know the genius genes it’s on my side of the family Mrs. Adler” he chuckles.

“On your dreams” you smile. It you be okay.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #frank adler #frank adler x reader

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lin-nin · 4 years ago

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Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 11

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader

Plot: You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer: Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it?

Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer: Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

Chapter 11: All’s Fair In Love And War

< | Previous Chapter

You excitedly trailed after Techno as he led you towards the courtyard, grin splitting your face. He looked back at you and chuckled, head shaking. You probably seemed like a whole different person, but you were full of a childlike giddiness you didn’t normally carry. The worn out area was a little disturbed from Wilbur and Tommy earlier, but you didn’t pay it much mind. You were just excited to have the chance to learn to fight.

“How much combat knowledge do you have, exactly?” Techno asked as he came to stand on the flattened grass. He unbuckled the belt holding his sword, tossing it towards the side. Out of the way, since there was no way it would be used now of all times.

“Absolutely none, I have my instincts,” You mumbled sheepishly, offering a grin as you came to stand across from him.

“Alright, put your dagger with my sword. We’re gonna focus on hand-to-hand first.” He pushed up the sleeves of his shirt, watching you take the dagger away from your waist. You sat it atop his sword, fidgeting nervously. You were vastly inexperienced, especially when compared to Techno and you knew that. This was going to be a mess.

“Where do we start?” You looked to him for guidance, feeling lost as you stood across from him. He watched you for a few moments, before motioning you towards him.

“Come at me.” His voice was flat, and he didn’t even seem to be taking it seriously. Then again, you weren’t much of a threat. Taking it too seriously might end up hurting.

“What?” You stammered, tilting your head. You eyed him up, trying to find something to go on. It wasn’t exactly easy.

“Try and hit me. I’ll correct you as we go.” Just like that? Just hit him? You chewed your lip, eyebrow furrowing as you tried to figure out what the best approach would be. You didn’t know how to do this. This was going to be so embarrassing. You pushed the stress aside. You wouldn’t learn if you didn’t try. Your gaze focused on his side, and you darted forward. You raised a hand to hit his side, only for him to entirely sidestep you and smack your hand away.

“Don’t be so obvious,” He stated, an eyebrow raising. You gave a frustrated huff, turning on your heel to swing on him again. He dodged once more backing away from you. He didn’t smack your hand away this time, prompting you to keep pushing forward. You swung on him a few more times, finally prompting him to widen his stance. He began countering the swings easily, eyes flicking over you rapidly.

“Better. Fast is good,” he began. He caught one of your hands, simultaneously kicking your feet out from under you. The wind was knocked out of you as your back collided with the ground, a groan shortly following. That was definitely going to hurt in a few hours time. “Speed is nothing without a proper stance and posture.”

He leaned down over you, offering a hand and pulling you up to your feet. You grunted with the effort, stumbling ever so slightly. “You never said we could use our feet,” You grumbled, shaking your head.

“All’s fair in love and war,” he mused, putting his foot between your own. “Come on, fix your stance.” He positioned your feet as needed, before coming around you. “Center your weight, and stay grounded. Don’t put all of your weight to your feet, though. It’ll only slow you down and make you an easy target.” As he spoke he positioned your shoulders slightly, making sure everything was proper in your stance.

“You’re smaller than most people you’d spar with here, so use your size to your advantage.” He rounded back to the front of you, staring at you for a few moments. He gave an approving hum, and no sooner than that were you launching yourself at him. You took the words to heart, trying to keep yourself light on your feet. Fighting was much harder than you had originally anticipated.

You did manage to land a few actual hits on him, though it was nothing compared to the number of times he countered you. It was only a matter of time before he was grounding you again, making you groan once again. That was going to do more than hurt in the morning. You were going to be so sore, but you had a feeling you would need to get used to it. Techno didn’t strike you as the type to have a day off when teaching something like this.

“Don’t fall into a routine, it makes you predictable and easy to down. You need to be spontaneous,” He was lecturing you again, only to lean down and offer his hand to you once more. You warily eyed the hand, reaching up to grab it. However, instead of letting him pull you up, you tugged down. You used your leg to kick at his feet, grinning successfully as it knocked him off balance. He lurched forward, falling onto you and only managing to barely catch himself on his forearm.

“Spontaneous enough for you?” You taunted, giving him a shit eating grin. He blinked down at you, as if processing what had just happened. At the same time, it really seemed to click what you had just done as well. Heat rushed to your face, your stomach flipping slightly. His ponytail was swung over his shoulder, hanging beside your face. The necklaces he wore brushed against your chest, the chains on his glasses mere centimeters from your face. You were close. Too close. He furrowed his brows, eyes darting nervously to the side. The faintest shade of pink dusted the apples of his cheeks as he moved, pushing himself off the ground and away from you.

“Perhaps a bit too spontaneous,” He murmured, hesitantly offering his hand again. You took it, letting him pull you up to your feet again.

“All’s fair in love and war?” You managed, offering him a feeble smile. He huffed out laughter, shaking his head and taking up his stance again.

“So it seems. Come on, we’re not finished.” You were quick to fall back into the pattern of striking at him, taking care to not get too into a routine. You tried to not think too hard, attempting to rely on instinct. You did note he was more wary in his movements, seeming to hit harder and not give you a chance to wind up in a compromising position again. You didn’t mind, though. It was almost embarrassing to think about, you weren’t too sure you could handle another moment like that.

----

Dream Focal Point

The commons of the capital weren’t entirely unknown to Dream. He had spent quite a fair amount of time here, even if he stood out. He was set out for one place, a house down a beaten path, away from the rest. He didn’t bother knocking on the worn door, simply pushing it open. It creaked to signal his arrival, thumping shut behind him. The house was small, dimly lit. A rickety table was off to the side, and behind it was a figure running a stone over a sword. The figure glanced up at Dream’s arrival, raising a single black eyebrow.

“I have a job for you,” He stated, pulling out a bag. He tossed it onto the table, where it landed heavily. A gloved hand shot out, pulling on the strings to look inside. The figure whistled, looking back towards Dream.

“You’ve never paid this much before, Dream. Let alone up front. What sort of suicide job do you have me on?” They leaned back in the seat, light from the dusty window illuminating his face. Stubble lined his jaw, a white strip of cloth seared at the ends was tied around his forehead, black bangs spilling over it. Brown eyes were full of curiosity, no doubt intrigued by the amount of money being presented to him.

“I want you to come with me to the wedding, as a guard,” Dream started slowly, gauging the reaction.

“The wedding? George’s little sister’s wedding? The love of your life’s wedding?” He clarified, making Dream grimace. The dagger hit the table, the man clearly growing more interested.

“Yes, Sapnap. That exact wedding.” Dream increasingly grew frustrated, far from fond of the words. He hated when things were put so bluntly, but his friend never cared to dance around that fact.

“As a guard? Are you worried they’re going to hurt you?”

“No, it’s just a disguise. I need you to get her back to me, no matter the cost. She said she’d come back if anything happened.”

“Even if it means hurting her or putting her in danger?”

“I would prefer she didn’t get hurt, but if she has to be, she has to be. I need her back.”

“You claim to love her but you’d just let me hurt her to get her back. You’re fucking crazy, man,” Sapnap laughed humorlessly, head shaking.

“All’s fair in love and war, Sapnap. Are you in or not?” Dream placed his hands on the table, fully prepared to take the gold back. He could do this on his own, but it would be so much easier if he had help from someone who was unrecognizable.

Sapnap thumbed through the coins in the back, sighing and shaking his head. “I’m in, but you’re a crazy son of a bitch, you know that? This better be fucking worth it.” He snatched the bag closer to him, and Dream only grinned.

“If you’re successful, I’ll pay you more,” Dream promised, green eye sparkling with an almost sadistic joy. “Just make sure your parents don’t find out.” With the words, he turned on his heel. He walked out of the house, a smug grin on his face. Finally, maybe he could get what he wanted.

Next Chapter | >

#dream team #dream smp #technoblade #technoblade x reader #dream x reader #dreamwastaken #reader insert #kingdom au #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois family #t&t

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pepperonijem · 4 years ago

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Silent Night || Steve Rogers

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: None, just pure Christmas rom-com feels.

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: You need a fake date to bring home for the holidays. Steve is more than willing. (Fake Dating AU)

A/N: Don’t mind me, just overly obsessed with cheesy hallmark Christmas movies and Steven Grant Rogers. It’s my first fic in a very long time, please be nice ok thx bye have a happy holiday!

‘Twas the night before Christmas break, when all through the apartment complex, not a creature was sleeping, not even a mouse; luggage was packed, without so much as a care, in hopes that they would all soon be out of there. All except one, who wished to stay.

“I can’t believe you told your mom you had a boyfriend,” your roommate, Natasha, laughed. “Actually, I can’t believe your mom believes you have a boyfriend.”

You shot a look at her before tossing a pillow in her direction. “I’m just tired of her getting onto me about being a spinster,” you rolled your eyes as you recalled your mom’s pleading voice over the phone.

“So have you met anyone yet?”

You couldn’t see her but you just knew how her eyebrows were raised in interest. It had become almost a weekly question, and for a second, you considered just hanging up right then, but then an idea came.

“Actually, I have,” you lied. It was only September, and you weren’t going to see your parents until the holidays, and by then, you could come up with a fake break-up story with your imaginary boyfriend.

“Really?” you heard your mother squeal in excitement and you almost felt bad. Almost. “Tell me all about him, and make sure you bring him home for Christmas, I want to meet him!”

You couldn’t help but crack a sad smile as you fed your mom fake details about your fake relationship. “We met in class and started studying together and one thing led to another, and now we’re dating.” There. The bare minimum, but enough to keep her satisfied.

The impact of the pillow against your face snapped you out of your thoughts. “Weren’t you supposed to break up with your fake boyfriend before break?” She questioned. “What happened to that?”

Plopping down beside her on the couch, you sighed and hugged the pillow to your face. Natasha pulled the pillow away and you gave her a dirty look. “You know my mom,” you began. “I just didn’t want to disappoint her. I thought I would be able to find another excuse as to why he couldn’t make it to Christmas, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer after he missed Thanksgiving.” You turned to give Natasha a pleading look. “What do I do?” you asked.

“Well, I still think you oughta tell her,” Natasha admitted. “Or, you could bring home a fake boyfriend.”

Immediately, you shot up and gave her a puzzled look. “What do you mean a fake boyfriend?”

“A blow up doll,” she rolled her eyes. “No, obviously you just get someone to pretend to be your boyfriend and then they pretend to break up with you, and you pretend to be sad, and then that’s it. Easy peasy.” Natasha shrugged her shoulders and stood up to pick up her phone from the kitchen counter as if what she suggested was a simple idea. You could hear her furiously typing in the keyboard as she walked away from you.

“Nat, you’ve officially gone bonkers.” However, the longer you thought about it, the more desperate you became. “How would I even find anyone? Everyone’s packing to go home. And on top of that, who would even be willing to pretend to be my boyfriend? They’d have to be really dumb, or really bored to agree.”

“Sure, I’m in.”

“Excuse me?” you asked incredulously.

“I said I’m in,” he repeated with a shrug of his shoulders.

A few minutes after Natasha suggested her idea, you heard a knock at your door. Natasha gave you a mischievous smirk as she opened the door and welcomed in the boy you’d been crushing on all semester. Steve was best friends with Natasha and her boyfriend and although you had hung out with them a few times, you always found yourself getting nervous around him. He was never anything but kind to you, always making sure you were included in the conversation and taking time to include you in the inside jokes.

Of course, Natasha knew about your crush and every so often would try to drop not so subtle hints to Steve. One time, Natasha and Bucky told you and Steve that the plan was to have dinner at 6:30 p.m. but didn’t show up until nearly 8. It was obvious that they were trying to set you up, but Steve never made a move and you didn’t want to be presumptuous, but at least he never made it awkward either. You knew Natasha was reeling inside at how perfectly things were falling into place.

“But why?” You asked, still unable to process what Steve was agreeing to.

“Oh does it matter?” Natasha asked with an eye roll. “You said you needed a boyfriend, and Steve volunteered. It’s perfect!” She took Steve’s hand and led him to the couch where you were sitting on and pushed him to sit beside you. He offered a sheepish smile and left enough distance between you two to be polite.

“Well,” Steve began, turning to face you. “Bucky’s going over to Nat’s over the holiday, and my folks are out of town, so I was just planning to stay on campus for the break.” Natasha coughed and gave Steve a look that you didn’t quite understand. Steve stuttered before adding, “But Natasha mentioned that you needed a boyfriend -- a fake boyfriend -- and I couldn’t leave you in need.” Steve looked down at his hands and back up at you. There was an unmistakable twinkle in his ocean blue eyes and for a second, you let yourself get lost in the idea of what it would be like to hold his hand in the December cold. Natasha rolled her eyes and filled the spot between the two of you.

“You two are hopeless.” She sighed, but a small smile still played on her lips. “Anyway, I’ve got it all planned out.” She turned to you first. “Since you never told your parents what your imaginary boyfriend’s name is, and every detail you’ve fed your mom is vague as hell, you can just fill in the blanks with Steve.”

Standing up, she pointed at Steve. “Okay, Rogers, your job is just to make the parents believe that you are absolutely head over heels for their kid.”

“Easy.” Steve said instantly and you caught him glance in your direction with a smile before turning back to Nat. You felt your cheeks heat up and you sank further back into the couch.

“The important thing is to keep your stories straight, and remember, the most believable lies are based on truth,” Natasha ended. She looked down at her watch. “Alright, Bucky’s waiting down in the lobby, and we need to go so we don’t miss our flight.” She pulled you and Steve in for a hug before heading to the door where her luggage was waiting. “You two have a very happy holiday. See you in the new year!”

As Steve shut the door behind Natasha, you found yourself feeling the butterflies that were hidden by the adrenaline from earlier. Steve turned to face you and gave you a comforting smile. “Look,” he began. “I just wanna be the best fake date you’ve ever had,” he joked.

“Well, you’re the only fake date I’ve ever had,” you laughed. Steve chuckled and you felt yourself grin. “Thanks, Steve, for doing this. You really don’t have to.” You looked down at your fidgeting fingers as you felt his gaze fall on you.

“I know,” he said softly. “I wanted to.”

The rest of the evening was spent planning. You put on the Charlie Brown Christmas special and ordered a pizza and began discussing every detail. You tried to think like your parents, wanting to have an answer for every single question they could ask. When was Steve’s birthday? What was your first date like? What’s your favorite pizza topping? Where did Steve grow up? It was like you were studying for an exam, except the longer you talked, the more you found yourself getting lost in the stories he told of Brooklyn, of his and Bucky’s teenage shenanigans, and it was all easy.

Three movies and a box of pepperoni pizza later, the two of you had settled onto the couch, still trying to think of any other possible stories to tell before you quickly drifted off into a tired slumber. The last thing you remember was Steve’s voice and his arm wrapping around you.

When you woke up it was to the sound of your phone ringing. You sat up to find yourself wrapped in a blanket. You scanned around the living room as you recalled the events of last night and found no trace of the empty pizza box and paper plates or the mugs of hot chocolate you and Steve went through last night. Warmth rose to your cheeks when you remembered that you fell asleep on him, and fell into a small panic when you realized it was him calling.

“Hello?” You answered with a yawn.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Steve answered. You could hear the smile in his voice. “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

You smiled into the phone. “Yes, I did. Thank you for cleaning up, you didn’t have to --”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart, I didn’t mind.” Sweetheart. He called you sweetheart as if it was the most natural thing to do. “Sorry, we never discussed nicknames, but it just came out,” he quickly added. “I just picked up some coffee, and I’ll be there in 15 to help you pack or anything before we go.”

“Alright, I’ll see you in a bit,” you hung up. You got yourself ready and answered the door for Steve. He handed you your coffee, two sugars, no cream, just the way you like it and you smiled as the scent of strong coffee hit your nose. Once you had everything packed, Steve grabbed your bag and the two of you made your way to his car and drove to your hometown. The drive was a few hours long, but Steve had a solid playlist full of karaoke songs that you loved, and the drive felt like it was not long enough.

The wreath on your parents’ door filled you with a sense of nostalgia. Or maybe it was nervousness? Butterflies? Whatever it was, the feeling settled heavily in your stomach as you rang the bell. You looked up at Steve, whose scarf was bundled tight around his neck, and his nose red from the cold, and he gave you an encouraging smile. “You ready?” he asked.

Before you could answer, the door swung open and you and Steve were enveloped in a tight embrace as your mother squealed in happiness. The holidays had begun, and there was no backing out now.

The first few days of the trip had gone by without a hitch, much to you and Steve’s surprise. Your parents did their best to embarrass you with silly stories about your childhood, and while at first you were filled with dread, the lopsided smile he gave you after finding out you once dressed as a McDonald’s Happy Meal box for Halloween made it worth it. Your dad asked the hard questions, asking what Steve’s plans for the future with you looked like and you found your hands fidgeting under the table before Steve’s hand found yours with a squeeze and told your dad that he couldn’t see a future without you in it and you began to picture what that would look like.

Everything was easy with Steve, in a way that it never was. You’d wake up in the morning and head downstairs to find him already awake and laughing with your mom and dad with a coffee waiting for you. After dinner you knew you’d find him sitting by the fire with a book in his hands. As you walked around town you’d spot things in the windows, little tchotchkes that made you think of him. Steve was growing roots in your family and it was as if he was meant to be there, another picture in the family scrapbook, another stocking hung on the fireplace.

Sweetheart became more common. And soon, so did darling and honey. They began to bleed into the quiet moments when you were alone, where you weren’t supposed to be pretending anymore. The soft smiles, the way his hand reached for yours without a single glance, the warmth of his arms wrapped around you. All of a sudden it didn’t feel like you were playing pretend anymore and you wondered if he noticed it too.

It was when you realized how easy it was to be with him that you realized how hard it would be to let him go. The thought of an inevitable end to your not-so-fake-anymore relationship weighed upon you like a blanket of snow, cold enough to snap you out of your fantasy. You were sitting by the tree with Steve the night of Christmas Eve, wrapping some last minute gifts for your family when you felt it.

The end was coming.

Steve must have felt it too, or felt something was off, because he reached for your hand almost instinctively. You hesitated before slipping your hand in his and when you looked up, you met his eyes. Just over a week ago, his eyes were just blue. But now, you realized, there was a storminess hiding in the blues of his eyes, like there was lightning behind his irises, but an ever-present stillness to them too. In this moment, there was concern mixed into the grays and blues, and your stomach lurched in a desire to forget your realization, to relax back into the rhythm and rightness of pretend, but Steve deserved more than a fake relationship and you owed it to him.

“Sweetheart,” he began. “What’s wrong?” The plea in his voice made it obvious that he suspected what was wrong. He was only asking to give you a chance to tell him that his suspicions were wrong. A last chance to abort and keep the charade going.

Pulling your hand out of his was the hardest thing you’ve had to do, and the instant chill on your skin where his calloused hand was touching was impossible to ignore. “This,” you muttered, unable to meet his eyes. “Steve, we can’t keep pretending like this, not when I have real feelings for you.” You finally looked up at him and kept going. You wouldn’t be able to finish if he interrupted, and you needed to be heard. “I can’t tie you down to a fake relationship, when you deserve to be with someone you actually are in love with. You’re an amazing friend for even agreeing to do this, but I don’t want to force you to be part of a mess that I put myself into.” You stood up, and finally added, “You can go home tonight. I’ll tell my parents the truth in the morning, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Hold on, I--” you interrupted him with a final, lingering kiss, hoping that the memory of it would be enough for you. You felt the hesitation in his fingers as he reached up to cup your face, trying to keep you where you were, before you pulled away.

Without looking back, you turned around and walked up the stairs, trying to convince the tremble in your fingers and the pounding in your heart that you made the right choice.

The next morning you woke up and for a few seconds, you laid in peace until the regrets of last night flooded over you. You dragged yourself up off your bed, trying to cheer yourself up by remembering that it was Christmas. Part of you hoped that you would see him downstairs, talking to your mom about her favorite cookie recipe, but when you walked into the kitchen and found your mom by herself, you knew he was really gone.

“Hey honey,” your mom exclaimed, wrapping you in a tight hug that suggested she knew something was wrong. “Merry Christmas” she said into your hair. After a moment, she finally let go and the tears that were threatening to spill over finally gave way and your mom reached out to brush them away. She pulled you back into her arms, and once you managed to steady your breathing, the two of you sat down.

“I heard you and Steve talking last night,” she admitted. You let out a strangled sob and your mom reached out to rub your back. “Honey, you could have just told me the truth. I love you, and you don’t need a relationship to validate that.” She gave you a small smile. “But when I saw the way you looked at each other, well I have to admit, it was nice to know someone would be here to keep loving you long after I’m gone.”

You set your head down against the table. “Well too bad Steve was only pretending to love me,” you sighed. “He deserves to love someone for real. I couldn’t hold him back from that. It was unfair.”

“Pretending?” She asked incredulously. “Sweetie, listen to me. That sweet boy was head over heels for you, and anyone could see it. The way he looked at you everytime you laughed, and every time he walked in a room and he always looked for you first, no one could fake being as in love as he clearly is with you.”

Finally lifting your head up, you wiped your tears with your sleeve. Maybe those moments you thought you were imagining were really there. Maybe he wasn’t pretending. Maybe you were an idiot for walking away from you last night. You stood up, ready to find him and apologize.

Feeling a rush of frenzy and determination, you ran upstairs to grab your keys and your coat, ready to ask your mom to drive you back to school so you can find him. Your heart was pounding in your ears and as you turned the knob to open your front door, you found yourself staring into a pair of stormy blue eyes.

“Steve?” your voice came out in a whisper. His hand was frozen mid-air, about to press the doorbell.

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sorry, were you heading out?” he asked.

You snapped yourself out of the trance you were lost in. “Uh Y-yeah, I was on my way to see you, actually,” you admitted. You stepped out of the doorway to let him in and you both stood in the kitchen. He set the bag he was holding on the counter and he opened the box.

“Donut? The only donut shop open was like 30 minutes away,” he offered, smiling as if you didn’t just try to break his heart last night. He handed you one, a chocolate with sprinkles, your favorite, before pulling out one for himself and taking a bite. He motioned for you to sit with him and you followed. “Listen, I--”

“Steve, I’m --” you both started at the same time. “You go first,” you allowed.

He nodded before continuing. “I know last night, you asked me to leave, but I couldn’t. At least not without telling you how I feel. You told me that you had real feelings for me, and I do too. Hell, I’ve had real feelings for you. Long before these last two weeks. When Nat texted me that night, I knew I finally had the perfect opportunity to tell you how I felt, but when we got here, everything just felt so… so real, and I let myself forget that it wasn’t. At least not yet. No matter how much I wanted it to be.”

You set down your donut, suddenly feeling that hunger was the least important thing you were feeling at this moment. Not wanting to interrupt, you simply nodded as he continued.

“I should’ve told you a long time ago, that I really, really, really, like you. None of this has been pretend for me.” He looked into your eyes, pleading, as he tentatively reached for your hand. “I want to do this the right way, no games, no schemes, just you and me. The real thing.”

The storm in his eyes seemed to make way for light, and the bright blues that disappeared behind his eyelids were the last thing you noticed before you felt your lips fall onto his. His hand reached up and you felt the pad of his thumb brush against your cheek. Gently, as though any more pressure and you would crumble like snow. You pulled away with a sigh, Steve’s lips chasing after yours.

“Merry Christmas,” you breathed out.

“Merry Christmas.”

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 4 years ago

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What if...? Part 9

Brace yourself, bring tissues and I will try to have the last bit/epilogue up real soon! Don’t look at me, I know I said this was the last part, but honestly, when it hit 12 pages I had to stop it there! And you lovely LOVELY enablers with your amazing comments and incredibly kind reblogs? Thank you for brightening my day! <3

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

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9

“We have to warn them.” Dulsissia whispers, her fingers toying with the fabric covering Davarax’ collarbone. “They have to move.”

“What are you talking about?” Davarax mumbles.

“The Covert.” Dulsissia replies, feeling an anxious knot in her stomach. “Macero knows Vecon found me on Nevarro. It’s not safe there any more. He will want revenge for his brother, Corin back in his claws and… me.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Davarax replies with lazy confidence.

“Do not underestimate his anger and the force he will use.” Dulsissia sits up to properly face him.

Davarax looks at her for a second then nods. “I hear you. I do. But do not underestimate the Covert. We are Mandalorians. We have survived worse things than Macero Valentis.”

Dulsissia isn’t too sure about that. She has seen an emptiness in Macero’s eyes that only belongs in black holes, the kind that simply exists to crush everything it touches, something that should not live in any human being’s eyes. But then her gaze drops to the blood glistering on Davarax’ clothing and she decides to deal with what she has right in front of her first.

“Come on. Off with it.” Dulsissia gets up and starts to detach Davarax’ breastplate. “Let me see.”

“It’s fine.” Davarax sighs, but helps her remove it and then his clothing, baring his torso, riddled with cuts and bruises and covered with sticky blood. “I’m fine.”

“This is not fine.” Dulsissia hisses, doing a quick examination of the wounds, especially where Vecon had stabbed him.

“Just a cut.” Davarax reassures her, trying to sound unfazed despite exhaustion creeping into his voice.

“Luckily he didn’t get the angle right.” Dulsissia mumbles. “Held the blade all wrong.”

She’s distracted by Davarax taking a gentle hold of her chin, making her look up at his t-visor and Davarax runs his thumb over her lower lip. “That’s my girl.” He sounds proud.

Flushing, Dulsissia pulls away and straightens up. “Do you have any bacta on the ship?”

He should, right? Mandalorians tend to get into fights all the time, so it would only be sensible.

Davarax points up and she sees the small compartment in the ceiling, which turns out to have a kit with bandages, a little bacta and a cauterizer thing that she quickly shoves back into the compartment.

She ends up sitting on his knee as the silly man refuses to leave the pilot seat in case some TIE fighters should appear out of nowhere and she begins to gingerly wash away the sticky blood and apply bandages to the injuries, trying not to think about how the last time she’d touched his skin it had been under so much happier circumstances. She hates knowing he will now carry even more scars because of her. And in the dark corners of her mind, she is glad Vecon is dead.

“How is Corin?” Dulsissia asks, dreading the answer. Her poor boy.

“Scared out of his mind that he’ll never see his mother again.” Davarax sighs, running his hand along her arm in an absent-minded caress. “When we get closer to Nevarro, I’ll try to reach him.”

“And the rest of the kids?”

That actually brings forth the Davaraxian laughter huff. “I had to physically wrestle Paz off the ship when he heard I was going. If he had a blaster, he would have shot me.” His hand rounds her shoulder and moves up her neck to cup the side of her face. “They’ve all been desperate to get you back. Like me.”

“I’m sorry.” Dulsissia mumbles, gently patting down the edges of a bacta patch on his stab wound. “I didn’t see him before it was too late. And then I just wanted them away from all of you.”

“Hey.” Davarax takes a gentle but firm grip on her wrist, halting her movement, making her look at his visor. “This was not your fault. This was all them. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Dulsissia looks at the residual blood still drying on his skin. “Maybe not. But the fact remains that without me stumbling into your life, you wouldn’t be bleeding right now.”

“Without me barging into yours, I wouldn’t be sitting here, that’s true.” Davarax replies, gently caressing her wrist. “I wouldn’t be with you. My days wouldn’t bring happy memories instead of feeling guilty all the time. I wouldn’t come home to my kids smiling instead of crying, hiding away while being terrified for their lives or without a voice because they have been screaming themselves hoarse.” His hand moves up to brush the back of his fingers across her bruised cheekbone with heart breaking tenderness. “That’s worth more than bleeding for, cyare. That’s worth dying for.”

Closing her eyes, Dulsissia takes a hold of his hand and moves it down to press her lips to it. “Other than the love I felt for my son, I didn’t know what love was until I met you.” She shivers. “Don’t talk about dying because it feels like tempting fate and I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“Then, maybe, if you feel like that, would you…” Davarax says, tensing up a little.

Waiting for him to finish the sentence and frowning a little when he doesn’t, Dulsissia kisses his hand again. “Would I what?” The man just took on an entire imperial ship by himself without hesitation, but a simple request frightens him? How is that possible?

Davarax exhales, as if letting go of something, and tilts his head while making a thoughtful sound. “Would you let me compliment you on the dress? It’s lovely. And really brings out the colour of your eyes.”

Laughing, Dulsissia shakes her head and goes back to focus on cleaning and bandaging him up. “Thank you. I kind of like it myself. Impractical, but pretty. I was thinking about keeping it.”

“I think you should.” Davarax drawls, toying with the thin shoulder strap. “Definitely.”

“Mom?” Corin’s voice across the com link is desperate and hopeful at the same time.

It hurts endlessly more than any physical pain.

“I’m here, Corin.” Dulsissia replies, eyes welling up with tears and yet makes sure to keep her voice calm. “I’m right here, baby. I’m okay. Are you okay? Me and Davarax are coming home now.”

The reply is a mess of voices as all the children try to say something at the same time, making Dulsissia reach out and touch the speaker as if she could reach them. They all sound so worried.

“SHUT UP!” Paz’ voice roars and Dulsissia expects the other children jump like she does because there is silence before Paz’ voice is heard again, calm this time; “Dulcy, when will you be landing?”

Dulsissia looks over at Davarax, who is standing next to her while she sits in the pilot seat, and he leans down to tap something into one of the machines before holding up five fingers to her.

“Five standard hours.” Dulsissia replies, reaching out and touching the speaker again. “Okay? Five. Then we’ll be back with you. Is Corin okay, Paz? Are you okay? How, how are-”

“He’s okay.” Paz replies. His voice is suddenly a little shaky too. “We’re all… okay. Just, hurry home.” A moment’s pause before he adds in almost a whisper. “Please.”

“Five hours, Paz, sweetie, I promise.” Dulsissia gulps down some air. “Corin, baby, you hear me?”

“I’m here, mom.” His voice is choked with tears. “Is… Is uncle Vecon with you?”

Dulsissia hesitates, glances over at Davarax who stands like a silent guardian next to her, then focuses on the speaker again. “No. It’s just me and Davarax. Don’t worry, Corin.”

“Did you kick his ass?” Raga’s voice pipes up. “I hope you kicked his ass.”

“Of course they kicked his ass.” Din scoffs. “Davarax would never let someone take Dulcy away and not kick their ass.”

Dulsissia hesitates, glances over at Davarax again and this time he shrugs, so she turns back to the speaker with an awkward look on her face. “Yeah, uhm, there was. Serious ass-kicking.”

“Can’t you come home sooner, mom?” Corin pleads.

“I wish, Corin, but we can’t. We’re going as fast as we can. But we’ll be there soon.” Dulsissia replies, hating she can’t grant her son’s wish and just appear in front of him. But there is one voice missing. “Barthor, baby, you there?”

There is a second of silence and then there is a cautious and slightly surprised; “...Yeah?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice. You okay?”

Another moment of hesitation before Barthor replies. “Y-yeah. I’m, uhm, yeah. Just… What they said. Hurry back.”

Dulsissia can’t help but to smile a little as she can practically ‘hear’ him blushing and Davarax must hear it too as his hand touches her shoulder and gives it a light, teasing squeeze. “We will.”

The five hours are spent half-drowsing in Davarax’ arms after he takes over the pilot seat and pulls her down on his lap. She tries to relocate to her own seat, claiming she has to be cutting off the blood supply to his legs after a while, but he refuses to let go and they end up staying like that.

And the only feeling that can compete with the peace she feels in his arms is the one she gets when she steps through the door to the Covert and Corin flings himself into her arms.

Din rushes over, wraps his arms around Davarax’ waist and buries his face in his stomach, while the Mandalorian gently strokes his hair.

Kneeling down and hugging her son close, giving up on holding back sobs of joy, Dulsissia peppers his hair with kisses and feels his thin arms trying to hold on even tighter. Her boy is shivering so hard it’s scary. She pets his back, his hair, continues to kiss him and squeeze him tight.

It’s almost accidental when she looks up and sees the other children standing there. Raga is clinging to Paz’ arm, tears in her eyes. Barthor hovers in the back, tears in his eyes. And Paz… who knows. The helmet doesn’t reveal anything.

Dulsissia manages a weak smile and reaches out an inviting arm.

Raga bolts forward and crashes into her so hard it kind of hurts, but Dulsissia hugs her close and Corin automatically wraps his arm around her as well. Getting Barthor to come over takes a little fingerwaggling and a nod, but eventually he slinks over. Din joins when Davarax gives him a gentle push in their direction. It feels so right, so lovely, so perfect to just hug them, squeeze them and reassure them.

Arms crossed, Paz watches them, not moving when she tries to wave him closer. In the end, she ushers her armful over to Davarax and lets them unleash their hugs on him before straightening up and stepping over to stand in front of the quiet boy.

“No hug?” She asks.

“Kids first.” He replies in a curt tone.

Dulsissia pulls him close, hugs him tight and whispers; “The helmet doesn’t change anything, tough guy. You’re still my baby. Just like the others. Always. Remember?”

Paz hesitates, then his arms slowly come up and go around her in return. “Okay…” And in that moment, he does sound terribly young and even a little lost.

Eventually Davarax makes a slight grunt and says; “Maybe we can head inside?”

Dulsissia looks over and has to smile a little as she sees he’s balancing the climbing Raga on one shoulder while Corin is holding on to his free hand with both of his. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The children marches on ahead, except for Corin who insists on holding on to her hand and walk next to her, and Dulsissia uses the chance to lean over towards Davarax beside her and whisper; “We have to warn them, remember?”

Davarax nods. “I remember. But it’s late. Even if we go and try to talk to her, nothing will be done tonight. It’s better to wait for morning. We got time. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to her tomorrow.”

Dulsissia sighs. “Davarax…”

“Trust me.” He says, reaching out and sliding his hand behind her neck, giving it a light and teasing squeeze. “I know what I’m doing.”

She trusts him, she really does. It’s just that Dulsissia has this horrible feeling…

They enter her and Corin’s room, where she sits down on the bed, Corin still attached to her arm, while Davarax hovers by the door and the children barely has time to settle in a semi-circle on the floor before they start asking questions about what had happened to her while she was away.

Dulsissia manages to weed out some answers of her own. Like she suspected, her cookie customers had happily told the tale of what had happened to her and after that, it was easy to weed out which ship had arrived and the name of the officer.

“It’s late.” Davarax points out when Raga mutters about how he had to go alone to save her. “You kids should head home.”

“Can…” Din clears his throat, shifts his position a little awkwardly. “Can I stay here tonight?”

Corin nods. “He has bad dreams, mom. He dreamt the droids got you.”

Heart breaking, Dulsissia looks over at Davarax, who sighs and starts prodding at his vambrace.

“I’ll ask them.” He mumbles.

“Me too!” Raga shouts. “Can I stay too? Please?” She meekly offers; “I-I’ll be good. I promise.”

“If you’re staying, I’m staying.” Paz mutters.

“What about you?” Dulsissia asks as she sees Barthor stare at the floor.

The young boy scoffs. “My mom will never let me sleep over.”

“Want to bet?” Davarax says, a slight edge to his voice.

Looking around the room, Dulsissia quickly calculates that while the children will most likely pile up together like they did on the camping trip, there really isn’t enough bedding to make comfortable mattresses for them. She has an idea…

Dulsissia clears her throat. “How about… we all spend the night in Davarax’ room?”

The man’s t-visor snaps up from staring at the vambrace he’s prodding at. “Say what now?”

Din lights up like a sunrise. He stares at his hero and role model by the doorway. “Oh, can we?”

Davarax looks over at Dulsissia, who gives him a sweet smile in return, and he ends up giving a heavy sigh. “Just… let me talk to your parents first.”

They all settle and stare as he lifts his hand to his ear-piece and starts connecting to the different Mandalorians via their HUD comm links. Davarax switches off his external mic, so they can’t hear what he’s saying, but first he points at Din and gives a thumbs up. Which has Corin make a happy squeak, move forward as if to hug the other boy, but then realizes it means letting go of Dulsissia’s arm and sits back again with an anxious look. She has to nudge him twice before her son will let go and slide down to join his grinning friend on the floor.

Next Davarax points at Raga and gives a thumbs up. She starts a happy sound but it dies mid-squeak as she sends Paz a quick look. She settles down with a frown, taking a hold of his arm.

Dulsissia observes the annoyed twitch in Davarax’ shoulders, but after what must have been an interesting discussion, he points at Paz and gives a thumbs up. The helmet hides Paz’ reaction, but Raga lets out the rest of her happy squeak and smacks him in the shoulder with both hands, to which he responds with a half-hearted shove in return and something that sounds a lot like a faint laugh.

Barthor continues to stare at the floor while the rest stare with anticipation at Davarax. The last conversation is without a doubt the longest, Davarax even crosses his arms and taps his helmet lightly back against the door frame a couple of times, but then comes the moment when he straightens and turns his mic back on. “Barthor?”

The boy sighs and slowly looks over at him.

Davarax gives him the thumbs up.

Barthor’s eyes widen in mute surprise, a disbelieving smile breaks free and then he’s flattened the other cheering children.

“I hope you have a plan.” Davarax had said, watching the wrestling match on the floor. Dulsissia had given him a grin, whistled for the children’s attention and then handed out assignments.

And that is how both mattresses from their beds, all the blankets and bed covers from her and Corin’s room are carried across to Davarax’ room and placed on the floor next to Davarax’ bed. The children are acting like they are indeed camping again, all smiles and eagerness, as they get to create a nest of their own.

Dulsissia sees Corin is torn between the urge to hang on her arm and join in with the others, so she nudges him again. As much as she wouldn’t mind him clinging after having felt the fear that she’d never see him again, Dulsissia cannot forget the memory of watching him playing and running around with his friends without that anxious look in his eyes. It hurts, but she encourages him to join the others.

“I’ll be right here, baby.” She reassures him.

Davarax helps the children adjust the mattresses a little and then deem the make-shift bedding worthy of his children. He walks over to where Dulsissia is standing. “The kids are set. You take the bed. I’ll, uh…” He looks around, as if scouting for a free spot on the floor.

“You and me are sharing the bed.” Dulsissia states. “The bed are for old people. Like us.”

“I said I was sorry!” Barthor groans. “Let it go.”

“Never.” Dulsissia snaps back. Then she realizes that Davarax is just staring at her. “What?”

Davarax just shakes his head and turns to look at the chattering children settling in their places.

“And would you mind taking off the armor?” Dulsissia asks. “You can, inside the Covert, right?”

Davarax gives a tiny nod.

It takes some time before the children calm down and settle for the night. Dulsissia does a final check on them, fluffing pillows and deliberately cooing all sorts of endearments suitable for far younger children. Raga lies closest to the door, curled up to Paz’ back and holding on like a little jetpack, while Paz has his arm around Din, who has Corin on the other side, and closest to the bed is Barthor.

“Okay, lights out.” Dulsissia declares after Davarax climbs into the bed and flops down on his back. “Sweet dreams, and if any of you need anything, just call out. Okay?”

There is a chorus of ‘okay’s.

After turning the lights off and cautiously making her way back to bed without stepping on anyone, Dulsissia climbs into it. As Davarax insists on being closest to the door, she has to also climb over him. Sighing satisfied, she curls up close to him, rests her head on his chest and abruptly notes how incredibly tense he is. And how he is very deliberately not touching her.

After a while, Dulsissia lets out a soft laugh. “You’re going to have to breathe eventually, you know.”

“No.” The answer is resolute.

Dulsissia giggles.

Corin’s head pops up from the pile. “Mom?” Several sleepy blinks. “What’s so funny?”

Dulsissia hoists herself up on her side to look at the children on the floor at the other side of Davarax, ‘innocently’ placing a hand on Davarax’ stomach, pretending to keep her balance that way while gently groping the fabric of the shirt. “Nothing, baby. Go back to sleep.”

Corin’s head flops down again, but at the same time, to her utter surprise, Dulsissia feels Davarax’ hand cup her behind and she has to suffocate a squeak. Corin’s head pops up again. “Mom?”

“It’s fine, Corin.” Dulsissia prods two fingers next to one of Davarax’ wounds and he jolts with a muffled grunt.

Corin’s head goes down again.

Davarax’ takes a firmer grip on her behind, hitching her abruptly closer, and she places a hand an unharmed area on his chest to push herself away, but then he uses his other hand to grab hers, pulling her even closer, so she squirms to free herself. They both struggle to muffle their laughter.

Paz’ helmet comes up and he lets out a very annoyed; “SHHH!”

Davarax and Dulsissia both withdraw their hands, fighting even harder to keep the laughter quiet.

“Sorry.” Dulsissia stutters through choked giggles.

“Yeah, sorry.” Davarax adds, struggling hard to silence his own laughter.

Grunting, still very much annoyed, Paz lies back down again.

As the laughter calms, Dulsissia searches and finds Davarax’ hand. She takes it, lifts it up to hold it between their chests, and smiles as their fingers begin their slow, pointless dance of just touching and braiding and feeling.

This. Dulsissia Motti realizes that she doesn’t need her fortune, her fancy clothes or the fancy food. She just needs this man and these children.

Fate brought them together and nothing can tear them apart.

Macero Valentis looks down at the pale face of his brother as he lies dead in the med bay.

“Sir?” One of the officers step into the room, through the door flanked by two Death Troopers. “Sir, it is confirmed. The Razor Crest is back on Nevarro.”

“Good. Increase our speed. Prepare the squads.” Macero says. “Fuel up the Flame Troopers, but make it clear I want my wife and son brought back alive.”

The officer nods and disappears out of the room.

Macero’s eyes narrow.

Nevarro is going to burn and every Mandalorian there with it.

“Listen, she has agreed to hear you out, but remember that you’re an, well, outsider.” Davarax says, before quickly adding; “To her.”

Dulsissia nods, arms tightly wrapped around herself, increasingly more nervous as they walk towards the Forge. “I understand.”

Davarax enters the room first, she follows, and they both kneel down and wait for the leader of the Mandalorians to approach them.

Feeling every second ticking away as a life lost, Dulsissia has to dig her nails into the palms of her hands to keep quiet. It was bad enough that they didn’t approach her yesterday, but now time might actually be running out.

Finally the one in a golden mask approaches them. “So he managed to bring you back.”

“Yes.” Dulsissia says, looking up at the leader. “But I fear trouble might follow me. There is a man in the Imperial Army. An officer. His brother was killed yesterday. He will want revenge for that.” She swallows hard. “And he’ll want me and my son.”

The Mandalorian leader stares at her for a couple of seconds then looks over at Davarax. “If he comes, we will fight. That is the Way.”

“No.” Dulsissia shakes her head. “No, you can’t fight him. Didn’t you hear me? He’s an officer in the Imperial Army. He will bring his forces here and he will destroy Nevarro. You have to run before he gets here.”

“I was hoping some time apart might clear your mind, but you are still blinded by her it seems.” The leader says, now clearly speaking to Davarax.

“I love her.” Davarax states it like a simple fact.

Dulsissia’s heart does a double-flip, not expecting him to confess that in front of his leader.

“That might be your downfall.” The one in gold armor warns him.

“You don’t like me.” Dulsissia says, her voice sharp with a touch of anger but mostly impatience. “There’s not much I can do about that. But you don’t have to like me to listen to what I’m telling you; you have to evacuate the Covert.”

The leader’s visor turns back to focus on Dulsissia. “We are Mandalorians. We fight. That is the Way.”

“But it won’t be a fight.” Dulsissia insists. “It will be a slaughter. And you have children here! Do you expect them to fight as well? Do you think this man will spare them? Because he won’t.”

Davarax reaches out and discretely touches Dulsissia’s arm in a signal for her to calm down.

“We have stayed in this Covert for many years and survived. Our kind has survived the Imperial Army before. That is the Way.” The leader replies, turning away.

“No.” Dulsissia gets up, shakes off Davarax’ hand and takes a step forward. “Listen to me! Please! This man will come here and he will kill everyone. You had the other Coverts established in case of an emergency. You knew something bad could happen some day. This is that day.”

Davarax is up on his feet too now and Dulsissia can feel his looming presence behind her back, ready to either stop her or defend her, she wonders if he knows which.

“This Covert took in me and my son when we had nowhere to go and we would have starved or worse if not for your help. I may not have sworn the Creed, but you have my loyalty. I would fight side by side with you against this man if I thought there was the slightest chance that he’d fight fair and we’d stand a chance against the number of weapons and soldiers he’s bringing. I would gladly die for these children.”

The armorer takes a step towards her, suddenly uncomfortably close, but Dulsissia makes herself stand her ground. She knows how much courage means to Mandalorians.

“You would die for them?”

“Yes.”

“Then you would stay while they go to the new Covert?”

“Then I am staying too.” Davarax states.

“No, you will not.” Dulsissia snaps, then focuses on the one in gold. “If that is what it takes for you to get the children to safety. All I ask is that you take my son with you. Let Davarax raise him as his own.” Maybe this is the punishment she deserves for not seeing through Macero’s act back then?

Besides, Macero won’t kill her. That would be way too easy. He will make her suffer instead, and that means there is hope for an escape.

Corin will never forgive her, but at least he will be alive and free to hate her and in safe hands.

Nevarro burns.

Most of the buildings here are reduced to ruins after the ships had bombed the area into submission. Powerful bursts of flame now flows through the air as the Flame Troopers wander around in the streets and gleefully tries to set fire to everything. Storm troopers are flooding into the underground entrances that leads below to the sewers and Macero has been told is the Mandalorian hide-out.

Forty standard minutes later, Macero is told that the place is entirely abandoned. No signs of any Mandalorians, his wife or his son.

“It’s said that a Mando brought your wife and a bunch of children on board the Razor Crest.” A Death Trooper reports. “Based on the description, sounds like the same guy as before.”

Usually Macero knows to bottle up his rage and stay calm. He knows Dulsissia is probably poisoning his son’s mind against him, but that can be corrected once Macero gets the boy back.

However, the thought of this filthy Mando, Vecon’s murderer, fathering the next Motti child instead of him… Macero lashes out and sends everything on his desk flying. All those year, all the planning, all the effort it took to get Dulsissia, ruined. “I WANT HIS HEAD ON MY WALL!”

“Sir?” The Death Trooper clears his throat. “Sir, if I may, I have an idea…”

Panting, Macero turns his glare over at the trooper. “What is your name, soldier?”

The Death Trooper removes his helmet and gives him a smug smile. “My name is Dominic, sir. And if you want someone to hunt down this Mando for you, I know just the guy. This one just loves chasing down dangerous prey.”

The new Covert is a lot smaller than the one on Nevarro, but situated in the same kind of dry, dusty environment, underground and next to a small town. And while the structure is ready, it takes no small amount of work to get the place habitable.

For the next three weeks, Dulsissia works herself half to death. She gets up early and is among the last to quit, but the guilt of knowing they had to relocate because of Macero is driving her. Especially when they get the message that Nevarro had been levelled to the ground and was now nothing but a smoking pile of ashes.

Dulsissia expects the Mandalorians to turn on her, blame her for tearing them up from their home, but to her surprise; none of them seem fazed at all and don’t treat her any different than before; with mild indifference.

The leader of the Mandalorians sends Dulsissia a long, indecipherable look when they get the news about Nevarro’s fate, but doesn’t say anything.

Corin competes with Din for having the most nightmares during the first couple of weeks and sticks to her like glue despite her efforts to have him join the other children. He keeps expecting his father to appear at any second and jumps at any sudden sound.

Davarax works even harder than all of them and she barely sees a glimpse of him for what feels like ages. He’s either out gathering supplies or hunting down prey for the bounty so he can buy whatever the Covert needs to become fully functional.

Dulsissia leaves small boxes in front of his door, with food and even some cookies she manages to barter into her possession. She finds beautiful flowers, including ones made out of folded paper when he’s clearly been where none are to be found, in front of her door and she misses him so much she could cry.

Especially as Davarax’ room is as far away from Dulsissia’s as possible and Dulsissia knows the leader has made it so. She may be allowed to stay with the Covert, but is clearly not worthy of him.

Dulsissia feels a bittersweet happiness when Davarax shows up at her door one evening and asks to borrow her for a little while. A quick glance over at where Corin and Raga are playing some game results in her son giving her a brave smile and telling them to go. Her sweet selfless boy.

“Where are we going?” Dulsissia asks as she follows Davarax.

“Nowhere special, I’m afraid.” Davarax says in a tired sigh. “I just got back and I haven’t… I just…” His fingers touch hers as they walk. “I just wanted to talk to you for a bit. Hear your voice.”

Dulsissia braids their fingers together and holds on to his hand. “I’d like that very much.” They’ve barely spent any time together since they left Nevarro.

She is a little surprised when he brings her out of the Covert, circles around the building hiding their secret entrance, and then they sit down on the sand behind it, their backs against the wall.

It’s a lovely view over the desert stretching out in front of them, stars are starting to appear in the sky and there is just the calm hum of the town nearby to disturb them.

“Tell me about the kids.” Davarax asks, carefully sliding his arm around her shoulders and leaning his helmet back against the wall. “Are they settling in?”

She tells him about Din wanting to start with blaster target practice, Raga making friends with her new braiding skills, Barthor working on making a com set for just them, Corin having fewer nightmares and Paz getting into a horrible brawl with a group of older teenagers. Dulsissia also tries to ask Davarax about his travels and how he is, but he keeps avoiding the questions and just wants to talk about her and the kids. She doesn’t push him. He sounds tired enough as is.

It’s when she’s complaining about Decco nearly breaking her arm during their last practice that Dulsissia picks up on Davarax’ deep, even breathing and how his helmet has tilted ever so slightly and barely touches her head.

He’s asleep.

For Davarax to fall asleep out in the open, it really underlines how exhausted he must be and Dulsissia aches for him. So tired and yet he had sought her out instead of rest...

She watches their surroundings, just in case, and she lets him sleep.

The man is exhausted and someone needs to make sure he doesn’t wear himself out entirely. Davarax spends his every waking hour looking after everyone else, but who is looking after him?

Life as a Mandalorian is a dangerous one and she fears what could happen if he’s too worn down to protect himself when danger finds him.

Dulsissia watches, arms crossed and once again with conflicted feelings, when the day comes when Barthor comes preening into the training room with his green helmet on. And to think it’s only two months left before she’ll never be allowed to braid Raga’s hair again…

She’s still not used to seeing Paz wearing his.

Davarax had reassured her that it is allowed to remove the helmet in front of one’s family so at least she would be allowed to see Corin’s face again if he decides to take the Creed, but the fact that he’ll never sit with his friends and feel the sun on his face saddens her.

It also makes her a little hesitant at the thought of wearing one for the rest of her own life.

“Davarax.” A Mandalorian in green and grey armor stands in the doorway. “A word.”

Davarax gestures for Paz to start the warm-up before walking over to his fellow Mandalorian.

The conversation is quiet and even then, after a quick glance her way, Davarax gestures for them to use their HUD com links and cut their external mics. It sets off countless warning bells in Dulsissia’s mind.

When the other Mandalorian leaves, she stalks over. “What?”

Davarax sighs, activates his mic again. “We lost a Mandalorian. He was meant to bring back some supplies but never showed up. Dez found him yesterday. Dead.”

“Dead?” Dulsissia feels ice cold dread spread through her. “Macero?”

“We don’t know that.” Davarax reassures her. “The Galaxy isn’t exactly short of dangerous people, Dulcy. It’s not the first brother we’ve lost over the years. Even on Nevarro.”

“So why do you sound so uneasy?” Dulsissia snaps, hearing the tension in his voice.

“I just…” Davarax shrugs. “It’s stupid, but… A piece of his armor was missing. Why not take all of it? Why just one piece?”

“A trophy.” Dulsissia whispers. “My father and his friends used to do that when hunting creatures. They would take a fang, a horn, something, as a trophy. Bragging rights.”

“As I said, we don’t know. It might be a coincidence. It might be nothing.” Davarax places his hand on her shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Try not to worry. It’s easy to say and difficult to do, I know. But there is no point in dreading something that might not come to happen.”

He’s right. She knows he is. But that still can’t stop her from worrying.

But then weeks go by and nothing more odd or bad happens. Things are starting to stabilize a little at the new Covert, it’s starting to feel a bit like the old one, and because Davarax is away on a mission Dulsissia even tries to smile in his place the day Raga puts on her helmet.

“It’s not fair.” Din mutters, arms crossed.

Standing next to him, Corin shrugs. “Well, I like looking at your face, so…”

In an instant, Din’s aforementioned face turns a deep red and he loses his battle against a tiny smile. “Y-you’re okay too. Your face. I mean, your face is okay too.”

Corin laughs. “Thanks.”

Din goes even a deeper shade of red.

Behind them, hearing the conversation, Dulsissia places a hand over her heart and nearly swoons over the adorableness of it all. She can’t wait to tell Davarax that her too perfect to be true son has his first crush, on Din! It’s too cute.

When she hears Davarax’ ship has landed, that he’s back, Dulsissia trots towards the entrance to greet him and inform him of this very interesting development.

She comes to an abrupt halt and all the giddy happiness in her chest evaporates when Davarax and two other Mandalorians enter while carrying something between them. A body wearing Mandalorian armor. They leave behind a trail of blood drops as they disappear into the darkness of the Covert.

After that, it takes no more than one week before the next one dies. Nine days until the next. Four days. Every time a piece of armor goes missing.

“Don’t go.” Dulsissia begs, reaching out and holding on to his arms so hard her fingers hurt from digging into him. “Don’t.”

Davarax sighs and shakes his head. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t.” She argues, desperate. “You don’t. You can stay here. Stay here with me. With the children. Stay.”

“Dulcy…” Davarax gently tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be fine. I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

Shaking her head stubbornly, Dulsissia wraps her arms around his waist and holds on tight. Maybe if she just refuses to let go she can keep him here by force.

Chuckling, Davarax wraps his own arms around her and rocks her gently. “Cyare, nothing bad is going to happen. I promise. I’ll come back to you. You think some mercenary can keep me away from you? Not a chance.”

Gritting her teeth and fighting against the tears, Dulsissia tightens her grip. “Don’t go.” He’d just come back from the last job yesterday and he’d kept nodding off all morning. “Please. Don’t.”

“I have to.” Davarax repeats, his hands move up to cup her face and forces her to look up at his t-visor. “When I get back, how about I teach you that dance you saw Roota do?”

“How about you stay and teach me now?” Dulsissia hiccups, losing the battle against the tears as she realizes there is no way she can persuade him to stay.

Mumbling something in Mando’a, Davarax leans down and places his forehead to hers.

Dulsissia covers her mouth with a shaky hand, sobbing quietly as she watches him walk away.

She’s wrong. Davarax comes back without a scratch. And he teaches her that funny looking dance.

It’s the mission after where things goes horribly, horribly wrong.

Dulsissia is walking towards her and Corin’s room with an armful of laundry when she notices helmet after helmet on several Mandalorians turning to look at her.

Blinking nervously, figuring they’ve gotten some kind of message via their helmets, Dulsissia halts, holds her laundry close and half-expects them to tell her that Macero is outside the door or just draw their blasters to shoot her.

“Dulcy.” Decco’s voice says and the Mandalorian comes walking towards her. “Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what?” Dulcy whispers, now even more scared. Corin, where is Corin? Has something happened to Corin? The other children? Is it Macero?

“They brought Davarax back.” Decco says. “He is below. I’m sorry.”

For a second, the words just rattle around Dulsissia’s head and don’t make any kind of sense to her. “N-no…” Dulsissia can’t breathe. She shakes her head, trying to evict the words before they can take root, make sense and reveal the horrible truth to her. “No.”

Davarax is not dead. He can’t be dead. It’s not possible. No. NO!

For the first time there is compassion in Decco’s voice as she speaks. “He fought valiantly.”

Violent shivers shudders through Dulsissia and she fails to notice how the laundry slips from her arms and just fall to the floor. “No…” She shakes her head again, tears welling up and escaping from her eyes. “Please, no…”

She can’t breathe. She can’t breathe!

Decco reaches out to touch her arm and the contact sends a jolt through Dulsissia, tossing her from horrified apathy to desperate denial.

“NO!” Dulssissia runs. She runs down the hallway, towards the door where she had seen them bring the other Mandalorians brought back, lifeless and missing a piece of armor. Every Mandalorian she meets, steps aside and lowers their visors.

Rushing down the stairs, she comes to the corridor below and Dulsissia comes to an abrupt halt when she sees the children there. They are huddled together, Paz doing his best to gather them in his embrace, and she can hear some of them crying from a distance.

The hysteria flares out and turns into an icy numbness.

Dulsissia walks forward, unaware of her own tears and the shivering heaves of air her lungs fight for. She can’t even look at the children, who all turn to face her. All she can see is the is the trail of blood leading to an open door, where she can see someone lying on a make-shift bed.

Due to the angle of the room, she can only see them from the waist down, but she knows who it is because of the helmet lying on the floor next to them.

Davarax’ helmet is stained with blood and lies in a pool of it.

For a second, Dulsissia has to stop. Her chest is compressing so hard that she truly can’t breathe, her heart cannot beat and everything hurts. She closes her eyes and her mouth opens in a silent scream of pure agony.

It’s the sound of footsteps that snaps her out of it. The children approaching her. And it’s too much. She can’t face them now. She can’t.

She has to see.

Forcing her feet to carry her forward, Dulsissia knows she’s on the verge of passing out as she steps into the room, but she enters anyway.

Dulsissia recognizes his boots, his pants, his torso that is once again bared and again covered with blood due to more wounds, injuries they had put bacta patches on, but these won’t heal to become scars. She slowly, almost reluctantly lifts her gaze further, sees the huge pressure bandage to his neck that is soaked through with blood.

And his face...

More hot tears spill from her eyes and Dulsissia tilts her head as she studies him. His hair is as dark as Corin’s, he has more than stubble at this point, a strong jawline and almost stern eyebrows that somehow only enhances the kind expression on his face. He is the kind of handsome that would have had all the girls on Seswenna swooning over him. He’s even more perfect than she’d dare to dream he would be.

Dulsissia can’t hold back an agonized sob.

And that is when he slowly opens his eyes, gorgeous dark eyes, to look at her.

Shock, disbelief, insane hope, everything slams into her at once. Dulsissia rushes over to his side, grabs his hand and holds it between both of hers. “Davarax?”

He blinks wearily. “Hey…”

His voice, unfiltered and drenched with pain, confirming that he is indeed alive.

Now the sobs are unbridled relief and joy, Dulsissia leans down to press kisses to his hand. “You’re alive. Thank the stars, you’re alive. I thought… They said… You’re alive.”

“I’m sorry…” Davarax whispers.

“Sorry?” Dulsissia’s head whips up to look at him, still crying with relief. “What are you sorry for?”

Davarax’ beautiful dark eyes avoid hers, even though he’s clearly too weakened to do much else. “My helmet. They had to take it off.” He swallows and cringes with pain, probably due to the wound on his neck. “To stop the bleeding. I can’t put it back on. It’s not allowed.”

Shaking her head, even more confused, Dulsissia kisses his hand again. “Then don’t wear it. I don’t care.”

“You don’t understand.” Davarax breaks into a couple of coughs and has to grit his teeth against the pain. Sweat is glistering on his skin. He makes himself look at her again. “I’ve broken my Creed. I… I have to leave the Covert. I have to leave you.”

Dulsissia blinks and then she sits up straight. “No. If you’re not allowed to stay, then we will leave.”

Davarax tries to sit up as well but can barely get his head up an inch from the pillow before he falls back with a gasp of pain and has to breathe for several seconds. “Dulcy… You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“You were right. The killings.” Davarax swallows, a drop of sweat trailing from his temple. “It was Macero. He hired some… nightmare of a creature. To go after Mandalorians.” He swallows again. “He said he was going to bring… my head back to Macero Valentis. For his wall.”

Dulsissia feels a wave of nausea roll through her. Her fault. This is her fault. She can tell by the severity of the cut to his neck how close this ‘nightmare-thing’ had come to succeeding.

“Without the Covert…” Davarax sounds utterly resigned amidst his pain. “I can’t protect you, Dulcy. I can’t keep… you and Corin safe. From him. Not on my own. You have to stay here.”

Shaking her head, Dulsissia reaches out and ever so gently cups the side of his face, feeling the warm skin and slight roughness of his heavy stubble verging on beard. “I don’t want you to protect me, Davarax. I want us to protect each other. I’m learning to fight and with you I can only get better. And Mandalor help whomever tries to put their hands on my son.”

Davarax almost smiles, but the sadness from his eyes is not banished. And, oh, he looks so tired. “Except for the Razor Crest and my armor, I have nothing, Dulcy. I can offer you nothing.”

Dulsissia reaches out her other hand, holds his face carefully between her hands, and holds his gaze as well. “Marry me.”

“What?”

“Will you marry me?” Dulsissia repeats.

“I…” Davarax looks utterly confused and he even manages to lift a hand to touch her arm. His touch is very cold. “Dulcy, did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah.” She says. “Did you hear me?”

“But…” Davarax frowns, the confusion drowning out the pain for a moment.

“I love you.” Dulsissia says, running a thumb along his cheekbone. “I’m not losing you again. Wherever you go, I go. So, will you marry me?”

Davarax swallows. “Yes.”

Dulsissia feels sweet, giddy joy flood her veins. She caresses his face for a little while, fascinated by how incredibly lovely he looks, it’s not fair he gets to have such a handsome face when he’s also the kindest man she’s ever met. “One more question.” She moves one hand down to trail two fingers over his lips. “Can I kiss you?”

Something flashes in Davarax’ eyes and he looks strangely nervous when he nods.

“You sure?” Dulsissia asks, a little wary after his odd reaction.

But there is no hesitation in his second nod so she leans down and, mindful of his wounds and weakened state, she gently brushes her lips to his.

It’s just as sweet as she suspected it would be.

But when Dulsissia pulls back, she sees the utterly dazed look in Davarax’ eyes and that combined with the slightly passive response she’d gotten fuels a suspicion in her head. “Was that… your first kiss?” Surely not.

The only thing preventing Davarax from blushing right now is the lack of blood in his body. He finally gives the tiniest of nods.

That stuns Dulsissia for a second and that is when she hears her beloved son’s voice whisper;

“I told you she would find a way. I told you we weren’t going to lose him. I told you!”

Sitting up straight, Dulsissia looks over at the doorway. “If we’re going to live on the Razor Crest for the foreseeable future, we are going to have a talk about privacy, baby. Get your butt in here.”

Corin shuffles in, flushing deep red. “Sorry, mom.”

Din follows him and stares angrily at Dulsissia. “You are leaving too? You and Corin?”

Dulsissia nods. “Yes. We are going with Davarax.” She hears Davarax drawing a pained breath, either to apologize or try to explain or something, so she squeezes his hand gently and shakes her head at him. “You. Rest.”

“What about me?” Din asks, the anger giving way to despair. “I don’t want to stay here. Please. Don’t leave me. If you do, I’ll run away! They will never find me. I’ll die before I go back.”

Dulsissia hesitates. “Baby, I…”

“I want to come too.” Paz steps into the room, followed by Raga and Barthor. He reaches up and takes a hold of his helmet, but Barthor grabs his arm.

“Paz! Take it off and you can’t put it back on. Remember?”

“I know.” Paz replies, shaking off the arm and calmly removing his helmet. The two years have chipped away at the roundness of his face and Dulsissia can see he’s at the very start of growing into the man he’ll one day become. “I’m going with you.”

Raga silently removes hers as well. “My parents have my brothers. I’m just trouble to them.”

Lost for words, Dulsissia merely stares at them.

Before any more words can be exchanged someone steps into the room. The children quickly step back to give room for the Armorer to enter.

Dulsissia tenses up and holds on tight to Davarax’ hand. What does the leader want?

“Get out.” The one in gold armor orders.

The children rush out of the room, but Dulsissia hesitates. She looks over at Davarax.

“Go...” He says. “It’s fine.”

Dulsissia gets up but pauses next to the Armorer. “I’ll be waiting right outside. Okay?”

“Okay.” Davarax replies.

Dulsissia reluctantly steps out of the room, but does what she said; waits right outside the door that closes behind her. The children all stare curiously at her, but she shakes her head at them, not ready to answer questions yet. She has too many of her own.

And most of them are then answered by accident.

She doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the room isn’t exactly sound-proof and the door is flimsy.

“I told you.” The leader’s voice says, but sounding… different. “I warned you she would become your downfall. Now look at you, vod.”

“And I told you, I love her.”

“She made you weak.”

“No.” Davarax coughs and grunts with pain. “No, not weak. Without her… I don’t think I could have defeated him, vod. Without her, I think I would have ended up dead. She… She makes me… want to live.”

“Everyone knows they took off your helmet.”

“I’m aware.” Davarax mumbles. “We both knew this was a possibility with that rule. It’s okay.”

“Where are you going to go, vod?”

“I don’t know.” A short silence. He’s struggling to speak, so very exhausted. “I’m going to miss you, vod. Mom would have been proud of you.”

“Promise me you will kill that Valentis vermin.”

“One day.”

“Ret'urcye mhi, vod.” The leader’s voice is back to normal again. And the door opens before she steps out into the hallway. There the golden helmet turns its visor to focus on Dulsissia. “He says he is alive because of you. Make it your Way to keep him alive.”

Dulsissia nods.

The leader then looks over at the children, pauses on Paz. “Your father will not be pleased.”

Paz gives her a weak smile. “When is he ever?”

“That is his Way.” The visor turns back to Dulsissia. “Take supplies from the food storage. Bring Davarax’ weapons. Load up the Razor Crest. I suggest you move fast, as once Dez Vizla learns of this he will indeed not be pleased. And he will blame you. Davarax is in no shape to protect you.”

“Thank you.” Dulsissia means it. “For everything. And I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is.” The leader replies. “May you find your Way.”

Dulsissia watches the Mandalorian walk away, takes a deep breath and turns back to the children looking at her. While Dulsissia has no trouble bringing Paz along, his father will be livid over him removing the helmet and isn’t fit to raise him anyway, but the rest… “Raga, are you sure-”

“I’m coming.” The girl states, uncharacteristically calm. “I know what you’re going to say, Dulcy. I love my mom and dad, I do, but… I like being with you guys. Back home it is always screaming and punching and stupidheads. One time I fell asleep in Din’s hiding place and when I ran home the next morning, they hadn’t even noticed I was gone. I’m old enough to put on the helmet, I can decide to leave.”

“You have to tell them.” Dulsissia says, and Raga nods.

Corin stares wide-eyed up at his mother, a look of awe he’s only given to Davarax in the past.

Dulsissia looks over at Barthor, hovering in the background and the only one still wearing his helmet. He jolts and shakes his head, so she gives him a soft smile. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t worry. Nobody is angry with you if you want to stay. That’s perfectly okay.”

Paz and Raga glance back at him and pull him forward to hug him between them, mumbling reassurances that they are not angry with him.

“Din…” Dulsissia says and he is quick to interrupt her.

“I will run away. I will! I swear it!” He steps forward, breathing hard. “Don’t leave me here.”

“We’re not going to leave you.” Dulsissia promises. “But we are going to have to record a message for your parents.”

“They are not my parents.” Din mutters with distaste.

“According to the Covert they are.” Dulsissia points out and closes her eyes for a moment. “Okay. Listen up, here’s what we are going to do…”

Dulsissia and Paz have Davarax between them helping him walk the final steps before they can ease him into the seat. Getting him up to the cockpit of the Razor Crest had been both terrifying and exhausting, but they have managed, somehow, the three of them.

Davarax is soaked with sweat, beyond pale and in so much pain he can barely talk.

Corin and Raga are below in the cargo hold, fastening the crates of supplies they’d brought, while Din is in the pilot seat and already flipping switches and pressing buttons.

Paz gives Davarax a pat on the shoulder and then disappears to help Corin and Raga. Dulsissia checks on the wounds, sees a couple have started to bleed again, but it’s the one on the neck that worries her. The scanner she had ‘borrowed’ from the Covert had given her an idea of the damage done to him and she knows it won’t take much before that compromised artery will tear open. It’s a miracle he’s alive.

“We’re ready.” Din declares as the Razor Crest’s engines comes alive.

Dulsissia buckles Davarax in, gives his sweaty temple a quick kiss that he’s barely conscious to acknowledge and then trots over to stick her head down into the cargo hold. “You guys ready?”

Corin and Raga run over to the fold-down seats and starts buckling themselves in. Paz does a final check on the cargo being properly secured before he gives her the thumbs up and moves over to make sure Corin and Raga are securely buckled in.

Dulsissia gets up and finds her own seat, buckling in. “Okay, Din. Let’s go.”

The Razor Crest shudders and shakes a bit, Din clenches his jaw and tightens his grip on the controller and then eases the ship up into the air. “Okay… Here we go.”

Everything jolts a bit as they shoot forward and then race towards the blackness of space.

Once they are gliding smoothly among the stars, Dulsissia dares to unbuckle herself and walks over to check on Davarax. His head is hanging low and he seems to be out of it, but the scanner shows his vitals are strong if a little jumpy. Good.

“Mo-om?” Corin’s voice sounds from the cargo hold.

Ice cold dread strikes and Dulsissia runs over to the door and hurries below. “What is it, baby? What’s wrong? Who is hu..” Her voice dies out as she turns from the ladder and finds herself looking at Paz, Raga and Corin all standing around Barthor, who is sitting on the floor.

“Barthor?” He’s still wearing his helmet, the visor fixated on the floor, so Dulsissia crouches down in front of him. “Barthor, baby, what are you doing here?”

Barthor sighs and slowly lifts his visor to look at her. “My parents don’t care whether I’m there or not. The only friends I have are here.” He sounds horribly defeated. “What choice did I have?”

Dulsissia reaches out and stops him as he lifts his hands and takes a hold of his helmet. “Baby, no. Listen to me. You have a choice. If you want to, we turn around and bring you back home right away. If you want to stay, you stay and we send a message to your parents. And your helmet? You don’t have to take it off. You wear it as long as it feels right to you. Your choice, baby. Okay?”

Barthor nods, trying to hide a sniffle. He lowers his hands and leaves the helmet on. “But I already left them a message. So… I’d like to stay here, if that’s acceptable with you.”

Dulsissia has to smile and nods. “That is very acceptable.” She leans forward and taps her forehead to Barthor’s helmet, to which he ducks his head down with an embarrassed laugh.

That was the beginning.

The beginning of their family.

The beginning of their journey.

And the beginning of the end of Macero Valentis.

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #What if #Dulsissia Motti #Davarax #Baby Corin #Fearsome Four #It really should be Fearsome FIve now #Mandorin AU #Macero sucks

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