#i think everyone collectively agrees its theirs so like

[thatbluebox]

DISEASE | sauron & galadriel (modern au)

aka the demon bf modern au 

[lets-try-some-writing]

The Grim Dark Archives: Statement #006 The Children

[Statement taken from [Redacted] on [Redacted: Sensitive data] regarding the Autobots acquisition of three human children. We do not know why or how the Autobots collected the children considering they actively avoid human contact when possible. However, they recently came into aquisition of three human wards and Optimus made it quite clear he will not be giving them up.

The Prime offered many logical and sound reasons as to why he and his team should be made guardians, and unfortunately, since we do not know the situation, command made the decision to allow it. We cannot risk the Autobots losing their wariness of us. Command was willing to sacrifice three civilians for the sake of our long term survival.

It's a [Redacted] situation, but there's not a lot we can do. [REDACTED] was asked to offer any insight he might have regarding why the Autobots gained and interest in the children to begin with. The statement he gave was... unsettling.

Statement begins.]

══════════════════

Three human children huh? I've looked over their files, and I gotta say I agree with your higher ups when it comes to this. There really isn't a lot you can do for those kids. If Prime personally chose them, it means he's got plans. And whenever Prime has plans... let's just say it doesn't end well for whoever is involved. I would know. I... was a close friend to him before the Archives took him away.

No I won't be addressing that little tidbit right now. Just consider it a little lore from your dear agent [REDACTED] alright?

Look, I don't claim to know Prime's mind, but I did know Orion before and after the Archives took him as one of theirs. And based on what these reports are telling me, I think I have a rough understanding of what Optimus is trying to do with them. You said Jack was the first, right? Arcee found him at his place of work and skidded away with him on her alt mode. Strange. She would have normally just bucked a passenger that she didn't like right off.

I think he was an accident. Arcee is still grieving the loss of Cliffjumper. The urge to latch onto another must be quite strong for her right now. I imagine that when Jack hopped on, her instincts clicked with him despite the species difference. He's young, he's not anywhere near as strong as even a newspark, and he willingly came to her even if he did not know it. He checked all the boxes, its no wonder she kept him then.

He is likely in the least danger out of the three when all things are considered. Arcee is incapable of creating a cold forged from him since he is organic, and so she won't threaten the team with her parasitic bonding. Jack will be alright so long as he doesn't anger her. She will guard him with her life and viciously fight to protect him from everything, including himself. She will be toxic, she will gaslight him, and she absolutely will try and pull him away from everyone else in his life. She will want to own him completely in order to begin the process of creating a cold forged from him. Of course this is impossible since he is no Cybertronian, but she will follow her rituals all the same.

I imagine Optimus wants to keep Jack since he ensures Arcee remains a loyal ally without the threat of her nature. Jack will never be physically harmed so long as she is near. Although I would be careful. Maybe give the boy a briefing so that he never mentions another female in Arcee's presence. Femmes are notoriously territorial. I would not put it past Arcee to go and kill any female classmates or even Jack's mentor- mother? Yeah that's the term. Simply put, keep her away from any "competition" and Jack should be fine, well, he won't be mentally fine but being alive is better than being dead I guess.

The one called Miko though? She's got it infinitely worse and I don't think she knows it based on the reports. Her status with the Wreckers is highly concerning. Wreckers are not naturally aggressive toward other species, but they do get bored easily. Perhaps that is the wrong word. They are so strange that even I don't really get them. But basically, when a Wrecker isn't given much to do, they start causing problems. BIG problems mind you. If there isn't a mission or objective to complete, they will create problems to solve and even revolt against their faction just to have something to do. Being trapped on Earth must be its own special kind of torture. I can bet you a hundred shanix that the only reason Bulkhead hasn't lost his fraggin mind and burned down a city is because he's hunting down that rogue Wrecker still.

What's shanix? It's our currency back on Cybertron- Wait, that's beside the point. Quit getting me off track here.

Miko is being used as a distraction to put things lightly. Wreckers like to see how far they can go, constantly testing the limits. Miko's personality and the fact that according to this, she wants to be "Just like Bulkhead" tells me that she's in for a rough ride. She probably won't be augmented or anything like that. It would be way too much effort for Bulkhead to bother. But you can bet that Miko will be thrown into any and all dangerous situations just so that Bulkhead can watch and see if she makes it out alive. He will probably try to play hero too. Wouldn't surprise me in the slightest.

Yeah, that girl is as good as dead. Well, at least if Optimus stops advocating for her life. Keep an eye on her and give her a quick briefing. I wouldn't tell her anything important, the calmer she is, the better things will be for her. However I would recommend combat training for her, or at least some of that Navy SEALS stuff you squishies have going on.

And then there's Rafael...

Honestly, I pity the boy. He's got Prime's direct attention. Rafael understands Bumblebee too. Frag he's honestly better off throwing himself off the nearest cliff. If Prime hasn't started the augments, he sure as pit will soon. I won't sugar coat it a ton since I know you lot are mature. So listen closely when I say that Optimus wants data. He always wants data. That child, Rafael... he has what we call outlier abilities. His mind is just different enough that he can pick up on our EM fields. He isn't actually understanding Bumblebee's words, he's understanding Bumblebee's intents and automatically translating them. A "Vibe check" kind of thing.

What I am getting at is that Rafael is one of the few who could handle Cybertronian data. Prime isn't dumb, he can see that. He's always looking for new optics to add to the Archive. My best guess is that he's going to bring Rafael into the fold, make him one of the Archive so that Optimus can have data regarding humans up and personal. The fact that the boy was given to Bumblebee only confirms that. Rafael is to be Bumblebee's newest gift and Rafael will feed Optimus information on anything and everything as soon as the augments are impanted.

You will know when the augments are done. When you know, don't talk to him. Don't say anything to Rafael. Don't let him SEE anything. Rafael cannot be allowed to know anything as soon as he joins the Archives. Everything he will see is something Optimus will also see. Not to mention Bumblebee... he's an adolescent. He has a desire to mentor a newspark, just like all our kind do at that age. If he has Rafael, he will be sure to guard Rafael and treat him very kindly. The cost is of course, that Rafael will belong to Optimus and Bumblebee in all but spark, or perhaps soul.

The only saving grace for the boy is that he will likely never know. Things that hurt will eventually fade away. His personality will shift, his mind will wander, and one day, he will wake up and not care anymore. The distress will be limited once he is fully one with the Archives. Bumblebee being there is likely also an attempt to keep him calm while the process is being completed.

I wouldn't have put it past Ratchet to have requested human subjects either. Keep a close eye on your young. That medic might try and steal a few now that Optimus has allowed for three to be taken.

══════════════════

[Statement end.

Those kids... I wish I could do something for them, but [REDACTED] has made it quite clear that acting could destroy us. The children keep the Autobots from harming more civilians, and as much as it pains me to say... letting three die is better than having whole cities burn.

We will keep an eye on the children and brief them as best as we can. The science department is going to want Rafael for their own, I'm sure. They can try, but if [REDACTED] is right, any agent they send won't make it out again.

On another note, up until now [REDACTED] had refused to take an alternate mode. But in light of recent events, he settled on a Martini Porsche, a racing model no less. A strange choice, but one that feels fitting for him. He's been opening up more and picking up on Earth lingo left right and center. But considering all he's said about adaptation, I am not inclined to fully buy his laid back persona, especially after his first few months with us where he was shaking like a leaf.

We can only hope these aliens get off our planet sooner rather than later.

Agent Witwicky signing off.

Recording ends.]

[psychopomp-recital]

hi I just wanted to ask: what drew you to death magic specifically? and, if your comfortable, how do you deal with grief (both yours and others) by being a death witch? (plz don't feel obligated to answer if it's too invasive /gen)

Oh not too invasive at all! Thank you for being so polite, this response is very long I’m sorry you asked a rather deep question 🩵 CONTENT WARNING IN TAGS

What drew me onto this path?

TLDR; I have always been surrounded death and it has been an ever present part of my life. I hated the idea that when someone died they were gone forever that’s it. Because regardless if you believe in spirits, I hope we can all agree that we’re all collections of the ancestors who make up our bodies & the ancestors who make up our personalities, we are who we are because of those passed on. And I can all but hope that someday someone will remember me and my stories the same way I remember these folks.

I want to be a good ancestor someday.

THE LONG ANSWER

I was raised in the Southern United States. The culture of this area is that surrounded in death. Everywhere you go there is haunted places and cemeteries. There’s also a strong sense of family there, this feeling that everyone is woven and interconnected.

I was raised Mormon and by a folk magical family who taught me the importance of ancestor work. I understood that these folks are part of me, by blood or otherwise they have made me who I am.

I was raised holding hands with my ancestors chronic illness. I looked it in the face everyday. Haunted by the idea that someday my body would rot away the same way I saw theirs rot, reminded everyday that illness could rip my mother from me without warning.

I eventually realized I could continue to ignore death, pray I have time on this earth to do what I want to do and run from it. Or I could embrace its role in my life and welcome it like an old friend.

I found comfort in the idea that I could help those who have passed on. The families who never got to say goodbye now had an opportunity to at least send the message. I could do my part to calm the fear these folks feel when they slip further into deaths grasp. I found a purpose for the pain I was experiencing.

If I could learn all I can while I’m alive, perhaps when I die I’ll be able to leave behind my knowledge and someone can keep this practice going. In that way, they keep me alive too.

I heard you die twice, once when they bury you in the grave And the second time is the last time that somebody mentions your name.

How do I handle the grief of others and the personal grief I experience?

I think I actually made a post on this! I’ll link it below!

But honestly it just comes down to boundaries, and being kind to yourself. It’s okay to cry and be upset and miss those lost to us. It’s okay to mourn for the dead you work with. YOU ARE STILL HUMAN. Don’t loose sight of that.

Also if you check out #MyPsychopompJournal you’ll see some entries on grief and my raw experiences with it. The one below in particular is a pretty good example;

Let me know if you are interested in a more in depth post about how I handle grief personally because I don’t want to ramble more than I already have!

ASK MY ANYTHING ASKS ARE OPEN!

[sybaritick]

I think it's good to occasionally remember that you are entitled to nothing, you come into this world entirely helpless, and that you are alive at all is due to considerable effort on other people's part. For several reasons:

"My parent(s) and/or grandparent(s) and/or guardian(s) spent considerable time and money to keep me alive" and "I do not owe a debt to them for this. It was their decision to do so" can both be true at the same time. For a long time I felt I owed a (financial) debt to my parents for the time and expense of raising me. I don't. You were a little kid-- there is no contract or unspoken agreement that binds you because you could not have meaningfully agreed to it.

There is almost nothing anyone truly accomplishes alone. Someone grows the rice that feeds you; someone sews the jeans you wear; someone builds the apartment you live in. How did you obtain these things? Through trade, exploitation, as gifts from someone else who obtained them by trade or exploitation? It's a combination of these things. I pay rent with money I earn working (trade); that the money I earn working can pay for my lifestyle is due to being born in the US, which is just luck (gift); the US is able to maintain this through its position in the world (exploitation, trade).

No one is entitled to your time, effort, and money, but you aren't entitled to anyone else's either. It's good to help other people, both your friends and your neighbors and strangers struggling on the other side of the world. And it's good to accept help if you need it. But remember that if you are giving more than you can handle without suffering, you may be creating an obligation in your head that doesn't really exist. And remember that help that others are giving to you is never obligated (even if you are friends), but also that people generally want to help their friends, and you shouldn't feel guilty for it as literally everyone benefits from help at some points in their lives.

And similarly, relationships being reciprocal is natural and not evil. People are friends because they benefit from knowing each other. Lots of people don't like this. But the benefit is often just that you enjoy their presence and conversation and they enjoy yours. If over time a friendship or relationship is making your life worse overall, stop putting your effort into it. But in all other cases, your life is better with them and theirs is better with you. It's a trade that enriches both people involved.

Anyway, I'm not saying you should become obsessed with these things. Spending every moment doing the calculus of what you've collected and what you've paid will make you insane. Much of it is extremely hard to quantify. But it's worth occasionally considering. It often makes me feel grateful for how lucky I've been by chance, and it helps me remember I don't need to put effort into relationships that have done little but make me feel stressed and unhappy for years.

[struggle-but-its-all-ocean-floor]

Overall nothing V has done lately has been exciting to me. But that's okay. There's tons of BTS content I haven't watched.

Yeah same. I'm not really into fashion like that, and I don't think the shoots he has done are anything special. Yes, he is very attractive but I'm not freaking out like I did for the "JK for CK" or Yoongi's as-yet-undefined photos.

And there is sooooo much content, and sometimes ARMY'S are insanely aggressive with everything. As if you're less of a fan if you don't buy every magazine they feature on, or stream their music 24h/7 days a week (oh fuck, now that will be stuck in my brain forever. Again). I haven't really watched the D-Day concerts after the ones they streamed in theatres because I want to experience that with a friend who lives several hours away. And we're adults with jobs. So I feel you.

I was pretty neutral about most of the releases (except D-Day. I was fucking scared I'd hate it because I was expecting too much. And People pt2 wasn't quite living up to People imho. But damn what an album. Literal life changer), but they all just were so GOOD in unexpected ways. I only buy physical copies of the shit I care about, because I don't want to throw parts of my disposable income at stuff I won't ever look at or listen to. SMF pt2 made me order Face on the spot. I yes

Generally, what I want from music is to make me feel something. To fill that hollow void in my soul, be that through anger, love, sadness or joy. I want it to be somewhat interesting in its composition (that's the part of me trained in classical music) which is why I love Vibe or Take Two. Or, like you said, challenge something.

In that regard, Layover is a bit like Tae's photofolio: safe, uncomplicated and mostly an aesthetic.

(I sound so harsh and I'm both sorry and not? Yoongi and Taeyang talked about everyone around you turning into "yes-men". That no one really challenges them because they're famous. So maybe I'll collect some thoughts on...all this...and write a post. If I'm not tired af tonight lol. Adulting is stupid)

I don't think you're being harsh. BTS are artists so criticizing their art is part of taking them seriously as artists and not just mindlessly streaming and consuming their content.

I agree that V's photoshoots weren't to my taste. They're all pretty similar, and he either wears Celine and/or old men clothing. Like, his poses, the photography, the styling, the vibe, are so similar between photoshoots that it's not exciting and V's looks don't do anything for me. Sometimes I think he's so handsome, but most of the time I don't notice it. He's handsome of course, but I'm meh about it.

I also agree that the songs are pretty safe. Jin's debut was pretty safe but it wasn't really a debut, so it doesn't count. RM and Suga didn't really shock me or show a whole new side of theirs with their albums, but RM has been challenging himself and us with his collabs, like Sexy Nukim and Smoke Sprite, and the way he promoted his album was very original and cool; Suga released two fire music videos with great storytelling and branched out a bit musicallly. Of course, J-Hope and Jimin totally surprised everyone with their albums, and Jungkook surprised us for obvious reasons lmao. So far V hasn't surprised me at all, but maybe the tt will? Probably not. I guess we got too used to being shocked haha.

But you said it well that V's album so far feels like an aesthetic, and that's so true for a lot of V's recent projects and that's one of the reasons why it's harder for me to connect with him right now.

Thanks for the ask!

[arealfvckinglegacy]

game day

The next story in my American High School AU is here!

Charlie, Tara, Darcy, Elle, and Tao all go to the homecoming game to support Football King Nick Nelson. This picks up the day after away jersey (which you can read here or here!), and I’m really proud of it.

You can read it on ao3 or under the cut!

“Ah, noooo!” Tao protested as Elle approached him with a brush in hand. “I did not agree to this!” Charlie paused in the doorway as he walked back into the room.

“Aw, come on, Tao!” Darcy responded, applying her own face paint in Tara’s bedroom mirror. “Where’s your school spirit?” 

“I’m going to the game, aren’t I?” Tao responded. 

“It’s the homecoming game,” Elle insisted. “Please? For me?”

Tao sighed, defeated. “Fine.” 

“Yay! Thank you!” Elle cheered. She kissed Tao on the cheek, and then sat him down on the side of Tara’s bed. She sat down next to him and painted a blue “T” on his cheek. Charlie smiled, admiring his own face paint: a Truham “T” on one cheek and a number 10 on the other. 

“Okay, so what do you think?” he asked, as he gestured to his outfit. He’d decided to layer Nick’s jersey over his favorite from his collection of stolen Nick hoodies: the blue one Nick let him borrow the very first time he went to Nick’s house. And of course, his signature jeans and converse. 

“You are absolutely adorable,” Darcy said. Charlie smiled, and sat cross-legged on the floor. He couldn’t believe he was going to wear Nick’s jersey to an actual football game. It was such a little thing, but it felt like a huge deal at the same time. It wasn’t the first game since Nick had come out, and every time he saw Nick’s teammates’ girlfriends wearing theirs, he felt a little twinge of jealousy. Charlie hadn’t wanted to push things too far too fast, though. He knew Nick was still adjusting to being out, and wanted to let Nick make the decision on his own. So when Nick had asked Charlie yesterday, he was overjoyed. Getting to wear the jersey was exciting enough for him on its own. But to wear it for the first time to Nick’s senior homecoming game… Charlie knew it meant a lot to Nick, too.

Tara walked in just then, her own face painted modestly with a royal blue stripe under each eye. She held a large sheet of oak tag tucked under her arm. Charlie knew she and Elle had worked on some kind of poster the day before, but he hadn’t seen it yet. 

“Are we all ready, then?” Tara asked, surveying the room. Charlie looked around, too. Elle and Tao were still sat on the bed. Elle wore a Truham High sweatshirt with navy, light blue, and white fireworks painted on her face, and Tao wore a plain, light blue t-shirt. It was the closest to “school spirit” he would agree to, given that he did not like sports and wouldn’t be caught dead at a football game if it weren’t for Nick and Charlie. Darcy had gone all out: half of her face was painted navy, and the other half light blue. She wore a blue t-shirt, on which she had written “Go Knights!” and “Go Nick!” with fabric paint. Tara had a similar shirt, also made by Darcy. 

“Looks like it!” Darcy cheered. “I call shotgun!” She burst out of the room, with everyone else following closely behind. 

When they arrived, the Truham field was already packed. Thankfully, Sarah Nelson had agreed to arrive early and save seats for them, so Charlie wasn’t worried as he, Elle, Tao, Tara, and Darcy walked from Tara’s car to the stands. They found Sarah easily, sitting on the first row of bleachers, holding a travel mug of tea and wearing one of Nick’s Truham Football sweatshirts. She waved as they approached, and pulled Charlie into a warm hug. 

“Hello, Charlie! Hello, everyone!” she said, gesturing to the empty space beside her. Everyone sat down. Charlie turned and looked at everyone around them. The Truham side was a sea of blue and white. Had the entire school come? It wasn’t likely, but it felt that way by Charlie’s estimate. 

“Okay, we need a picture!” Darcy said, practically bursting with energy. She pulled Tara to her feet. “Get the poster.” Tara reached behind her to unveil the poster she and Elle made. Charlie and Sarah burst out laughing. Elle had painted a portrait of Nick with a crown on his head, and written the words “Football King Nick Nelson” next to it. 

“Do you think he’ll like it?” Elle asked. 

“It’s amazing,” Charlie insisted. “And if he doesn’t want it, I do.” 

“Okay come on, Charlie, you get in the middle. Tao, Elle, you on this side. Tara and I will get on the other side.” Darcy said. “Mrs. Nelson, do you mind taking the picture for us?” she added, holding out her phone.

 Sarah stood, and took the phone. “Not at all dear,” she said “As long as you make sure I get to keep that poster.” Darcy nodded. 

“Of course!” Darcy took her place next to Tara, who proudly held the “Football King” poster. Mrs. Nelson stood across from them. 

 “Oh, that’s lovely,” she said, taking several photos before passing the phone back to Darcy. 

“Oh wait! I’ve got an idea,” Elle said, taking her own phone out. “Charlie, we need one of you holding the sign.” Charlie felt his face go bright red. He knew this was coming. “Come on, it will be so cute!” Elle added. Charlie knew there was no way he was getting out of this. 

“Okay,” he said, taking the sign from Tara. He held the sign in front of him and gave a big smile. 

“Wait!” Tara interrupted. “You’re blocking the jersey! You have to hold it up over your head.” Charlie buried his face in his hands. He knew they were right, though, so he held it up, smiling once again. 

“Oh my god that’s perfect!” Darcy said, watching as Elle snapped the picture. “Send that to me, will you?” Elle nodded. 

A minute or two later, Charlie felt his phone go off in his pocket. He pulled it out to find three new messages in PARIS SQUAD chat. 

Darcy: GOOD LUCK NICK!!! 

Darcy sent 2 photos

Darcy: 🏈👑🎉

Charlie looked at the photos Darcy sent: one of the whole group, and one of just Charlie. As he read, more messages came in. 

Sahar: omg you all look so cute!

Sahar sent a photo

Isaac: we’ll see you after the game!

Isaac: good luck Nick! 

Sahar had sent a selfie of her and Isaac in their marching band uniforms. They were in the band room, warming up to play during the game. One more message popped up in the chat. 

Nick: ☺️thanks everyone! 

Then, another message came in, this time a text from Nick, just to Charlie. 

Nick: You are so adorable. I love you. 

Charlie beamed, and quickly responded. 

 Charlie: I love you, too. Now go focus so you can throw the ball good 

 Nick: 🤦🏼‍♂️😘

Charlie put his phone away, as the marching band came onto the field, playing a song Charlie couldn’t quite place. The conversations all around slowly petered out as the band continued to play, and stopped in the middle of the field. The announcer’s voice came through speakers at either end of the field. 

“Good afternoon Truham Knights! Welcome to the Truham High varsity football homecoming game!” The announcer, James, said. “Let’s all give a warm welcome to the Roosevelt High School Bears!” 

The opposing team jogged out on the field. The spectators on the other side of the field, dressed in green and white like the team, cheered. A smattering of polite claps came from the Truham side as well. The opposing team lined up along the 45 yard line. The marching band finished their first song and began a second. This time, Charlie recognized it as We Will Rock You. The cheerleaders came out and started leading everyone in the stomp stomp clap rhythm. 

“And let’s give it up for your very own Truham High School Knights!” James said. The Truham stands erupted. The team rushed out onto the field, led by Nick, who was the captain and quarterback. Charlie stood and cheered along with everyone else. 

“Let’s go Nick!” Elle cheered. Behind them, someone screamed “Long Live King Nelson!”, which made Charlie and Sarah both laugh. Once Truham’s team was lined up on the other 45 yard line, facing Roosevelt High, a sophomore girl Charlie didn’t know sang the national anthem, and then one of the referees gestured for the captains to come to the 50 yard line. Charlie watched Nick and the other team’s captain go over. They had a quick discussion, and then there was a coin toss to determine which team would get possession of the ball first. Roosevelt High won, and Charlie sat back and let out a deep breath. 

“So,” Tao asked. “Does anybody here actually know how this game works?” 

“Excuse me!” Darcy responded. “You are speaking to the undefeated lunchtime science hallway football champion!” Everyone burst into laughter. Darcy’s lunchtime science hallway football games typically ended with either someone getting hurt, getting caught, or almost getting caught. Each time, Darcy declared herself the winner, no matter the outcome. 

“I’ve been slowly figuring it out,” Charlie said. “But Nick gave up on trying to explain it to me ages ago. Mostly I just cheer when everyone else does, and boo when everyone else does.” Charlie loved Nick, but he definitely did not love football. When they first started hanging out, Nick had tried to explain it, but Charlie just ended up staring at him like he was crazy. When the season started, Nick had tried again, but by the time the first game started, Charlie had forgotten nearly everything, and it wasn’t like he could just run onto the field to ask Nick what was happening. Sarah had been helpful, explaining some of the more straightforward parts, but it was still confusing.” 

“Got it.” Tao leaned back. 

“For now, you need to know that the other team has the ball and they’re trying to get it over there.” Darcy said, pointing to one of the two end zones. “And our team is trying to stop them from doing that.” 

“Right, I’d figured that much out,” Elle said. Quickly scanned the field. “Where’s Nick?” 

“He’s the quarterback, so he doesn’t play until Truham gets the ball.” Charlie explained.

“Oh,” Tao said. “Okay. So this game is confusing as hell?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” Tara said. 

By half time, Truham was ahead by 7. Nick seemed happy when Charlie saw him before the teams went back to the locker rooms. Nick had walked past and given Charlie a big smile and wave. Charlie had nearly died, and by the time he had recovered enough to wave back, Nick was gone. He knew that Nick probably wouldn’t have a chance to look at his phone before the second half, but he sent a quick text anyway. 

Charlie: sorry I didn’t wave back 

Charlie: I was in shock that Football King Nick Nelson waved at me 😍😍

“I’m going to get some hot chocolate, does anyone want to come?” Charlie said, standing up.

“Ooh, I was just thinking of getting popcorn!” Tara said, hopping up. “Anybody else want anything?” Tao and Elle shook their heads. 

“Are you going to share your popcorn?” Darcy asked. 

“Yes,” Tara responded. 

“Then I’m good,” Darcy said, and took out her phone. Tara and Charlie made their way through the crowd towards the concession stand near the entrance to the field. As they walked down the path from the stands, they heard a familiar voice behind them. 

“Charlie! Tara!” They both turned around to see Imogen walking toward them. 

“Hey, Imogen,” Charlie said. 

“Oh my gosh, is that Nick’s jersey?” Imogen asked. She looked at Charlie and grinned. 

“Uh… yeah,” Charlie said. “He gave it to me yesterday and asked me to wear it.” He couldn’t help but smile back. 

“So cute,” Imogen said. “So you’re like official official now, yeah?” 

“Um, I guess so?” Charlie wasn’t entirely sure what she meant. Everyone at school had known for months, so it wasn’t entirely new information. “We decided to stop keeping it a secret from everyone, and in Paris everyone found out.” 

“I’m so happy for you guys.” Imogen added, smiling genuinely.

“Thanks,” Charlie said. 

“I heard all about Paris, it sounded so fun!” Imogen said. 

“Yeah, it was.” Tara said, jumping in. “We missed you on the trip.” 

“I know. I was so sad I couldn’t go! Cheer camp and all that.” Imogen said. “Anyway, tell Nick and everyone I said hi!” 

“We will,” Charlie said. Imogen started to head back towards the stands. “Bye, Imogen!” Charlie and Tara continued to the concession stand. 

The cheerleaders had started their routine by the time Charlie and Tara returned. Charlie sat back down and sipped his hot chocolate. It was still too hot. Charlie watched as Imogen and the other cheerleaders did a series of pretty impressive lifts and flips, clapping and shouting along with the rest of the crowd. 

Shortly after the cheer routine, the teams came back out onto the field. This time, Truham started with possession of the ball. Charlie watched, following along as best he could. There was a kickoff, and when Harry got tackled, Charlie couldn’t help but chuckle.

By the end of the third quarter, the game was tied. Roosevelt started the fourth quarter with the ball, but thankfully they didn’t gain enough ground to score. Once Truham got possession, Charlie nearly stopped breathing. He had already finished his hot chocolate, but he clutched the cup tightly in his hands, nearly crushing it. They gained a decent amount of ground, and in the fourth down, Nick threw the ball to Sai, who managed to run it into the end zone. Charlie, Darcy, Tara, Sarah, and Elle jumped to their feet and cheered. Tao looked startled, and clapped along with everyone else. 

“YEAH! THAT’S IT BOYS!” Darcy yelled, and high-fived Charlie. They cheered again as Truham got the field goal, bringing back their lead. 

Near the end of the game, Roosevelt nearly scored. Otis managed to tackle the player with the ball before he made it to the end zone, and everyone cheered. In the final play of the game, with seconds left on the clock, Nick managed to pass the ball to Christian, who ran it into the end zone. Everyone leapt to their feet, screaming. Even Tao stood and celebrated with the rest of the group. Truham had won 27-14. 

Nearly all the Truham players gathered together for a celebratory group hug. Nick, however, pulled his helmet off and looked back towards the crowd. Charlie caught sight of him and waved excitedly. Nick saw him and ran over. Charlie walked towards the fence to meet him, and when Nick got there, he grabbed Charlie and pulled him in, leaning over the fence. Nick kissed Charlie, and Tara, Darcy, and Elle all cheered. 

“Thanks for being my good luck charm,” Nick said, smiling. Charlie smiled back. 

“Anytime,” he said, kissing Nick one more time. 

[mrsjellymunson]

KNOCK AT THE CABIN | Prologue

Written for @bettyfrommars, @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing’s Stranger Prompts, Prompt 1. He shows up at your house covered in mud in the rain, but the problem is, he died two months ago.

Series Summary: After the events of the previous months, everyone is shocked by the unexpected return of an old friend. But is it really him?

Chapter Summary: On a stormy night, an unexpected visitor arrives.

WC: 1.14k

Series C/W: 🔞 18+, MDNI, NSFW. I mean it, if you’re under 18, git! Post-S4, Upside Down exists, dark/supernatural themes. Eventual Eddie Munson x fem!reader smut. Swearing. Not much to caution about in this part, unless you don’t like rain, or bad decor.

A/N: This series contains a lot of things I haven’t written for before, so I’d love to know what you think! Please comment and reblog, it means the world to writers, and reblogs mean work gets seen. This series has a taglist so if you’d like to be on either it, or my general list, lemme know in a comment, ask or message 🙏💗

Next: Part One Part Two

Series masterlist

My masterlist

You’re holed up in an old farmhouse on the outskirts of Hawkins. It’s not exactly remote, but the nearest building is little more than a speck on the horizon so you feel pretty isolated. Owens organised it, explaining it would be a good idea for the older members of the party to lay low for a little while. Nancy had put forward an excellent argument for remaining with her family, but you, Robin and Steve had reluctantly packed up some of your belongings and relocated here. For how long, you don’t know.

It’s no palace. The wood-built building is certainly past its best, the yellowing 50s kitchen barely functional and the faded decor not to anyone's taste. But it’s (mostly) warm, (usually) dry, and most importantly, it feels safe. Which is something you all need after the events of the past few months.

You’re all acutely aware of the obvious gap in your merry band. Owens had insisted that the three of you didn’t attend the funeral, but he’d involved you as much as he could, ferrying messages between you and the kids and Wayne, discussing what he would’ve wanted to wear (you all agreed on his spare Hellfire shirt and leather jacket, knowing he’d never want to be separated from either, plus a brand new, government-funded pair of black 501s), and sneaking mementoes to you with Wayne’s approval.

Mike and Will have taken charge of his D&D paraphernalia, Dustin got his wallet chain (and wears it with literally everything, even his Weird Al shirts and colourful shorts), and Lucas opted for a small pocket knife. You, Steve and Robin each have one of his rings. Steve and Robin keep theirs in their rooms, but you wear the silver skull every day. It’s too big for your fingers, and is even a little loose on your thumb, but that’s where you keep it, spinning it to ease your anxiety, and smoothing the pads of your fingers over its bumpy surface to remind you of the friend you’ve lost. Rueing the fact that you always wanted him to be more than that, but never had the chance to find out whether he felt the same.

The kids visit periodically, even staying over sometimes, nobody expecting anyone to be watching the comings and goings of a bunch of nerdy teens. Nancy drops them off, sometimes staying, sometimes not. On this occasion she’d dropped and run, explaining that she was going to visit Max in the hospital tomorrow, spending some quality girly time with her. Lucas, who usually spent every spare moment by her bedside, was going to spend the weekend here, after Max, still seriously ill but now well enough to communicate, insisted that he needed to spend at least a bit of time with his old friends.

Tonight, you’d had a movie marathon, Keith developing an uncharacteristically generous side since everything kicked off and periodically dropping off and collecting piles of VHS tapes. Not quite generous enough to bring you any brand new releases, but even things you’ve seen before are better than the ‘sweet FA’ you’d have available given the nonexistent TV reception around here.

Popcorn litters the floor and the saggy furniture, as do gangly boys and a long-haired girl. Jane has commandeered the sole armchair, sitting in it cross-legged, and you, Steve and Robin are squashed onto the sofa with an equally squashed Dustin, the latter insisting that there was definitely room for one more.

Mike and Will are on the floor between the sofa and the old, battered coffee table. Mike’s hunched over a bowl of chips that he’s shovelling in, and Will is leaning against your legs, you stroking his hair in a way you know he finds comforting. Lucas is lounging on the floor at the side of the table, his long body stretched out and his head supported on threadbare throw pillows.

The gentle patter of drizzly rain against the windows and roof, and the crackle of the open fire, one of your only sources of heating, gives the evening a cosy feel, though you hope the rain doesn’t get any heavier as you don’t entirely trust the roof over the rear extension to cope with much more meteorological abuse.

You’ve just finished Raiders Of the Lost Ark and Steve has got up to swap it out for The Stuff, when there’s a strong gust of wind and the rainfall picks up significantly. Great, you think, the weather gods definitely weren’t listening to your silent pleas.

None of you notice Jane stiffening in her seat and shifting uncomfortably.

Under the lashing of the wind and rain there’s a sudden noise at the front door. Not urgent, not loud, just two soft thuds. If the kids had been roughhousing or the film had been on you may even have missed them.

You all look at each other, instantly and equally on edge, and all hoping that somebody, anybody, will provide a simple explanation for this.

Steve’s the first to speak. Jaw slack and brow furrowed, he asks the room, “Uhh, did anyone order takeout?”

There’s a cacophony of ‘no’s’ and shaken heads, before another soft thud is heard, just one this time.

Steve steels himself, not for the first time realising that it’s his responsibility to investigate the possibly terrifying, and potentially life-threatening, situation. He stands from his position by the video player and moves towards the door, fingertips skimming the top of the bat that’s always to the side of it, before closing his hand softly around the handle.

He pulls back the sliding bolts before twisting the lock and pulling the door open just a crack, leaving the chain on. The noise of the weather increases in volume, but other than that there’s no indication of what’s on the other side.

Steve has his back to you so you don’t see his eyes go wide, but you do hear a soft, “Wh- What the fuck?”

Robin being Robin, and perpetually thinking about her stomach, she says,

“What is it, doofus? Pleeease tell me it’s Jonathon and Argyle dropping by from Cali with some delicious Surfer Boy pizza??”

“Uh, no, it’s, uh- You know what? Maybe you should just come and see for yourself. Wait, scratch that, just the adults.”

Knowing this will unwittingly pique the interest of the kids more than if he’d just allowed everyone to come look, you and Robin glance at each other before quickly rising and moving to the door.

Steve closes it and takes off the chain, opening it wide as the three of you arrive, the kids following close behind and trying to look between you.

There, hunched, shivering, soaking wet and covered in mud, is your friend. The one who’d died saving the town. The one they’d buried only a few days ago, after he’d been lying on a slab in a lab somewhere for weeks.

Eddie.

Next: Part One Part Two

Series masterlist

My masterlist

Thanks so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this. Lemme know if you’d like to be tagged in future parts.

Extra tags: @jamdoughnutmagician @joejoequinnquinn

[relaxxattack]

hey, so i still havent read knifetrick yet, but i saw the post you reblogged about it being about capitalism's treatment of disabled people. im aware that this is just one interpretation of your work, but did you consciously make decisions about what messages to send within your story? did you purposefully include imagery or motifs or references or anything else to create a particular theme or idea?

im wondering because im making my own story, and im curious about what others put into theirs. i have a few key ideas i want to send with it, so i'm trying to tie all my characters and their arcs and the symbols and everything in my story to it. my brand of autism tends towards the "everything MUST have a logic to it!" and this is an obvious influence on it, but i still also think it's worth putting a lot of thought into it because theyre ideas i really care about. i want curious readers to be able to look into my story and see how it all ties together, and i want to impart messages of compassion onto my general audience as well. i think that all art has messages within it, whether personal or otherwise, and by being aware of what those are you can create a stronger and more cohesive story. at least thematically. if that is what someone wants to do, of course.

i know knifetrick is a story you started for fun. there is absolutely value in that (in your own joy) and i dont think art without intentional purposes or messages is inferior in any way. but did you ever get an idea for an overarching message in your mind, and implement it? its cool if you didnt, or if you did but dont want to say what it is too btw lol. im kinda just looking for the experience & thoughts another author had with their own thing. (i am very nervous sending this ask. i hope i dont sound like im jumping the gun.)

do not feel bad for asking this question, i'm always down to talk about my written works, even if it takes me a bit to collect my thoughts and figure out a response. yes, the truth is i went into knifetrick from the start with a lesson/moral i wanted to explore and teach. a fun fact about me is that i have several younger siblings, who are often being taught things i personally don't agree with. having conversations with them about what is really "right" or "moral" is awkward and not really doable. but stories and characters have always been a good and safe way for us to have this discussion-- why did this character do that thing, what makes this bad guy bad, and so on. this is why with writing i don't just like to tell a story, but i also like to teach a lesson. as patronizing as that sounds, i kind of just think it's pleasing when stories have a good moral behind them. although they don't need to for me to enjoy them. but back to the actual topic, yes. i did intentionally choose to explore the idea of capitalism's failure of certain groups of people in my story. that is what the main plot is actually wrapped around-- there's the obvious struggle with the main character, ran. he is physically and mentally disabled, he is treated differently than his peers. in a way he is fed from a young age the idea that the only way he can be considered equal to everyone else is to have a use to other people; to be the hardest working member of the order. his society encourages this worldview so that they can take advantage of him, but they don't actually care about him at all. they would discard him if he stopped being useful to them. the second example of this is the other main character, jackie. jackie's society also failed to take care of him-- he was orphaned, and then immediately lacked a support system of any kind, personal or governmental. he turned to a life of crime to make ends meet and repress his emotions, but all that did was eventually make his severe depression worse and manifest itself in a lot of anger issues and lashing out. by the time ran meets jackie, he's attempting to turn over a new leaf and take this opportunity he's been given to make an honest living; jackie cares a great deal about the people around him. the missing children are failed by society in the fact that they go missing in the first place, and nobody has bothered to try and find them (although the blame for that rests mainly on watson's shoulders, seeing as he tricked the king into thinking that was being solved). scoots and clem are failed by society as well- scoots is denied the job she actually wants to have due to her disability, and they are very poor. obviously this is made worse when clem goes missing, and since no one else is doing anything, scoots stops working to look for her sister. possibly the most obvious examples i can think of are maia snail and laggius maximus. maia's children are both autistic, with one of the two showing much more severe symptoms than the other. she's dealt with this in the way she best can as a mother, which is give them things they can comfortably work on to get their energy out and be helpful without having to do anything they don't like. society fails them as well, in that laggius is killed in the pit. but the more important part of their story is something snail tells ran: "i would have loved my brother even if he was never useful a day in his life, because he deserves it". essentially all throughout knifetrick, especially through ran, we are shown this idea of usefulness as equivalent to worth; i.e. how capitalism teaches us to view ourselves. we are shown how faulty of a system that is through the various characters. eventually ran realizes that he does not actually have to do anything useful to be worthy of existence, comfort, or love, and that is the sort of “end moral” of the narrative. ran ditches the council, showing that he knows his own worth and refuses to be tied to people who only ever hurt him, and then jackie helps the king start to reform subbin’s systems so that less people will fall through the cracks as he did.

so yes, that is essentially how i explored the idea of capitalism failing disabled people through knifetrick. there’s likely more stuff that i forgot but that’s what i remember off my head right now. anything anyone else sees in knifetrick about this topic is probably fair as well, death of the author and all that. this is what i intended while writing but other people might have seen more things in other characters that i didn’t think of too hard.

i hope that helps.

(bonus: firefox completely froze while i was at the end of this ask and made me fear for my fucking life. it took so much waiting and minimizing the program before i could safely save this to my drafts and then close firefox. terrifying.)

[wastelandlovingscenarios]

regret | deacon x sole survivor

“i don’t feel the same way, charmer.” his voice was barely a whisper.

sole felt a lump grow in their throat as they tried to fight back the tears that threatened to escape. they tried to let out a simple, “okay, i understand,” but only silence filled the air.

deacon knows. he catches the tears building up in their eyes and knows their voice is silently attempting to scratch its way out.

he desperately wants to stop their pain, wipe their tears and remind them that he thinks no differently of their relationship, but something in his heart tugs as sole fights back to hide their vulnerability from him. “i’m sorry.” is all he truly lets out because in reality, his words are just as lost as soles own.

to sole, his words become a blur. their knees become weak as their vision becomes clouded with tears they refuse to let out.

‘i’ll give them time,’ he thinks but his feet struggle to find movement as he continues to stare down at sole, speechless for the first time in a long while.

before he could make a move, sole rushes out of the room, not sparing him a second glance. the sound of the door shutting behind him breaks deacon out of his trance, grounding him back to reality.

a tinge of regret pokes at his heart and he silently pushes it away, knowing that this was for the best. he didn’t have feelings for them and it was nothing but the truth.

or so he thought.

-

the next few weeks are almost a blur for him as his partner goes mia from the commonwealth. the first two weeks, he tries to let it be, convincing himself that sole might’ve needed some time to themselves to sort their feelings out, so he lets them. seeing them might be the last thing they need, so he tries to fight the urge to do so.

yet, as time goes by, the worry in his heart rapidly grows when they’re announced as missing by the minutemen. he grows unnaturally quiet upon hearing their words and feels himself grow weak at the possibilities of what could’ve happened to his partner.

searching far and wide did almost nothing for him and only flared his concern. there was little to no clues of their disappearance and the hope that he would find them sooner or later began to slowly deteriorate.

deacon takes in a deep breath, trying to soothe his mind of all the concern and regret. how could he let it get this bad? why couldn’t he at least check up on them day to day instead of running away?

deep down, he knew the truth of it all. it screamed volumes to him and no matter how much he tried to silence it, it grew louder with every passing second. he avoided sole as much as they avoided him because deacon refused to confront the truth between them both. he never provided closure because he never knew how to.

and the more he refused to face the reality of the situation, the longer the days stretched. he found himself pushing everyone away, spending countless nights with tears streaming down his face, hoping someday sole would just turn up on the railroads doorstep. he didn’t care if they forgave him or not— he just wanted to see them safe.

tonight, he found himself with a bottle in his hand, hunching over the counter as he drank the night. he silently thanked lady luck for landing him in an almost empty bar for no one to catch the state he put himself in. unbeknownst to him, a certain mercenary watched his back from the minute he’s entered the bar till the very last drop of his nth bottle.

“you know, i don’t think that’s a very healthy thing to do.” deacon looked over his shoulder, and though his vision continued to spin, he automatically recognized the annoying face that pestered him.

“let a man ‘ave fun, asshole.” he slurred, trying to push out a grin. maccready rolled his eyes and occupied the seat near deacon, folding his arms.

“i’m serious.” mac pulled the bottle away from his hands, tossing it to the bin nearby.

“hey, i was-!” before he could finish, the mercenary cut him off, not wanting to listen to a word that left his mouth. “do you wanna talk about it?”

his words cut through the facade he tried to pull off and deacon immediately fell silent upon his words. “i know we don’t meet eye to eye all that much, but i hate to see you like this.”

as much as he wanted to lie to his face, continue his said facade, he wasn’t physically able to upkeep that image anymore. it was extremely tiring, especially with everything going on. he let out a sigh and allowed his head to fall on his arms that rested on the table. “you wouldn’ understan’.”

theres a pregnant pause, but he eventually responds. “i don’t, but i could try.”

it takes him a few moments to decide whether or not to confide in someone, especially maccready of all people. to his dismay, the words leave his mouth before he could stop himself from letting it out.

“you won’t tell?” it’s a point of no return— he knows — but for some reason, he doesn’t take it back. was the consequences of actions finally getting to him? probably. he didn’t have time to think as maccready let out a small, but shocked, “of course.”

and so he lets it out— not everything — but enough for maccready to get the message. how it all lead up this point and how it contributed to their disappearance.

“i think i made a mistake.” he says, voice barely a whisper. “i made a huge fucking mistake and i don’t know what to do.”

mac looks down at agent with sympathy, detecting the pain trapped in his voice and sighs, “we all do. it’s just the human in us.”

the rest of his words grow obscured as his eyes droop, the alcohol and sleepless nights finally catching up to him. slowly, but surely, the world blacks out.

-

it’s almost dreamlike— the feeling of his hair being brushed softly and the way a familiar voice lulls him awake. he lets out a small groan as his head pounds violently from what he hoped was the night before. he thinks it’s all in his head; the soft touches and the soft voice that continued to fall upon his ears. it’s so painfully familiar, yet it couldn’t be but he felt his heart jump at the possibility of it.

“sole?” his eyes shoot open but close back in an instant as the gentle light illuminating from the window cracks filled his vision. his head dips on what seems to be their lap, trying to block it out desperately. he felt the same hand that brushed his locks rest on top of his eyes to protect it from the sunlight that only made his head throb more.

“morning sleepyhead.” upon hearing that sweet sound, tears began to form in his eyes once more. the one person he’s yearned to see for what seemed like centuries was finally within arms reach. just like that, his tears fell effortlessly, collecting in soles hand as it streamed down his cheeks.

“deacon?” before they could remove their hand to reveal the tears spilling from his eyes, he quickly places his hand on top of theirs as a silent request to keep his eyes hidden.

“i’m sorry.” he chokes out, voice cracking through each word that left his lips, “i’m fucking sorry. i-“ he gently squeezed the same hand that rested on top of theirs. sole remained silent, watching as he spoke through ragged breaths. he tried his best to muster out his apologies, thoughts — feelings — through the pounding of his mind.

“everything i said, it was a lie. it was all a fucking lie just to avoid having some kind of attachment in my life. i hurt you because i was scared of facing my fears.”

“lie? scared? deacon, what-,” their words drifted into nothingness as deacon continued on.

“no matter how much i tried to run away from it, i knew i couldn’t. i had feelings for you. feelings more than this partnership that we both agreed to do, more than the best friends we claimed to be.” at this point, his feelings poured through the cracks of his heart and he knew that he would fix it this time, even if sole no longer felt the same way. “i fell for you hard. i was in love with you and i still am, sole.”

after a deep breath, he continued on. “you don’t have to forgive me. you don’t even have to give me the chance to love you properly, i just want you to know i’m sorry. i’m sorry it had to take you to leave from my life for me realize how much this meant to me. how much you meant to me.”

for a moment, it’s still; the air seems tense at first and time seems to freeze. there’s this sense of fear that overtakes his mind for a mere second.

soon enough, time seems to continue on as sole places a soft kiss on his forehead, allowing it to linger for a few seconds. “we’ll talk about this more when you wake up, okay?” they whisper and as reassuring as it sounds, he’s still terrified. terrified that he’ll wake up alone.

“will you be here when i wake up?” he tries to let it out calmly, but there is a hint of panic and unsureness in his voice he couldn’t push away any longer. all of that seems to melt away as sole lets out a small chuckle, his heart swelling with a mix of pain and relief.

“yes.” they reassure, “i’ll be here for as long as you need me.”

he let out a relieved sigh, keeping his hand on top of the one that covered his eyes. for the first time in weeks, everything finally felt right.

“love you, charmer.” before he could hear their reply, he felt himself being pulled into slumber that quietly called his name.

[yessotruebestie]

Girl!Toastbaby Headcanon

I've been seeing a lot of people posting their toastbabies headcanons so I thought I'd throw my hat into the ring.

The girl definitely inherits her father's creativity but not in the visual arts. She sees Katniss knitting and asks her to teach her so that she could make clothes for her dolls. Katniss says yes, of course, and spends every other afternoon teaching her the basics. She makes scarves and jackets for her dolls so that they won't get cold in the winter and eventually makes human-sized ones for herself and her family and friends. She even made Peeta a knitted oven mitt which he can't really use in the bakery due to its poor construction but still loves it anyway. At some point, she finds an old sewing kit just lying around the house and decides to try her hand at it. She adds little things to her stuff here and there, little flowers near the hem of her pants, bumblebees flying around her jacket, stars across her school backpack. Before her 14th birthday, Katniss and Peeta notice her making more alterations to her clothing and decide to get her a sewing machine and some cloth. She is ecstatic about the gift and cannot wait to try it out, but when Katniss and Peeta see the machine running they kind of panic and enlist the help from a friend of theirs who knows how to use a sewing machine to teach her how to safely use it and not get herself stabbed by the needle. Over time, she begins making her own clothes until her wardrobe is almost completely made by her. She also has an impressive collection of hair ribbons as she likes to wear her hair half up tied with a ribbon that complements her outfit.

At some point in her late teens, Peeta commissions her to make new aprons for the bakery's staff which she happily agrees to do. She even embroiders the bakery's name and logo on each one along with the employee's name. Peeta is so happy and proud when he sees the aprons and boasts to everyone who comes into the bakery that his daughter made them. During dinner, he excitedly tells her about all the people who complimented the aprons and she listens with equal excitement, happy that she is already making a name for herself as a seamstress.

Katniss's father's hunting jacket is so worn and old that Katniss can't use it anymore but refuses to throw it away and instead keeps it as a keepsake. The girl gets an idea and takes the hunting jacket, hoping her mom doesn't notice, and begins crafting a present for her mom's upcoming birthday. Katniss later notices the jacket's disappearance and basically turns her and Peeta's room upside down trying to find it and has to be comforted by Peeta because it is the last thing she has that belonged to her father. Upon seeing this, the girl rushes to complete the almost finished gift throughout the night and bashfully presents a box to her the next morning. Before Katniss can open it, she quickly explains that it was her who took the jacket because she saw how sad her mother was when she couldn't wear the old jacket anymore and hope she isn't mad at her for it. Katniss opens the box, revealing a new hunting jacket that the girl quickly explains is lined with the old material from her father's jacket which causes Katniss to tear up. Thinking she hates it, the girl quickly starts apologizing to her but is cut off by Katniss tightly hugging her and thanking her, and expressing how lucky she is to have such a creative and thoughtful daughter.

[notasiren21]

26 for Lukanette WIPs please. :)

26. Party Crasher!Luka

I FUCKED UP AND JUST WROTE IT I GUESS???

Party Crasher

-Lukanette oneshot

“You mean to tell me Agreste ditched you? After all that pleading to let him take you to the party for your successful launch line for next season, he’s ditched you?”

“Kagami, don’t kill him.”

“Fine, remind me why I can’t though? This is such an ass move of his if he’s trying to prove he’s the one for you.”

“Because,” Marinette grits out, faking a toothy smile to a work couple that waves from passing, “I want to castrate and kill him myself.”

Kagami laughs roughly in surprise, “Why the castration?”

“So I can fit his small ass into the tightest pair of skinny jeans we have for our tall teenage girls.” The not so stoic girl sips on her wine, pleased with her friend’s rage. “I told him I haven’t been interested since we were 14, but him thinking I’ll forgive him if I even had a silver of interest in dating him? Fuck him.”

“Or,” Kagami drawls, long nails tapping the stem of her glass as she leans to peer over her friend’s shoulder, “You could fuck him instead?”

Mari gasps in offense, “I am NOT trying for a one night stand, no matter what you guys say.”

“No, you little mouse,” she admonishes, fully heartedly agreeing with the sentiment, “I just mean your big and handsome protective snake is here to save the day.”

Marinette’s mind took a second longer to click the pieces together, trying to make sense of Kagami’s nicknames for her friend group, before her heart thudded and she slowly turned.

There, passing by the models who had walked in Marinette’s designs and batted their false lashes at the rockstar, was Luka Couffaine.

Dressed to the nines in a very punk like and sophisticated way that revealed he very much wanted to impress her and did in fact listen to her fashion advice. Black skinny jeans only he could pull off, high top converse and a white button up with a black vest to overlay it. The cheeky and handsome bastard forgoing the tie to leave one too many buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoos.

Oh, on the life of his cat Sass was she proud of him.

And maybe drooling just a little?

He approached her, a sly smile working its way to his lips as he eyed her up and down, eyes shining bright at her black low cocktail that she paired with navy blue heels.

So maybe she sometimes used Luka as a whole for inspiration.

He raised a hand, finger wrapping around a loose curled tendril out of an elegantly messy low bun, “I thought it was the models you were supposed to make the stars of the show.”

“Had I known you were gonna show up, I would’ve worn one of my bests here.”

His hand froze, “This isn’t your best? You tease,” he broke out in a grin. His hand moved further, thumbing at the collection of piercings in her ear he accompanied her with to get years ago. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Well, I’m suddenly glad I can only acknowledge this as awkward and not feel it.” Kagami noted into her class. Her phone buzzed, electing a sigh from her as she began turning. “Have fun, my mother decided to remind me why this wine was a good idea to have before she came.”

She watched her friend walk away, her other -her best friend and other half, remained taking her in and stroking the soft spot under her ear he once claimed with a mark-

The one time they admitted their crushes and strong attraction towards the other the night before he left for tour years ago.

It was the only time Luka had indulged himself in his wants and desires, the only time he had asked to and still provided her with an out. And now he still remains far off in her memories, even as he stands in front of her with that look on his face years later.

“How did you,” she swallows when his soft gaze flicks back up to her eyes with his full attention. “How did you get in? It’s a ticket only event.”

He shrugged, turning to offer her an arm and walk around. “I may or may not have seen Adrien’s post about his mom and dad going to a gala event and him going to see his cousin there. Seems like that took precedence I guess.”

Marinette huffed low, “Félix has been in town for three weeks. Adrien and I had lunch with him the other day.”

Luka stilled as a busboy stopped in front of them, offering them glasses of champagne. Luka’s nose twitched, then his lip as he turned away with a polite smile. Marinette shook her head in turn as well.

“You know you don’t have to pass just because of me, right?”

“Hey, we do this ‘young 20 some year olds unable to drink alcohol’ in solidarity together.” He cracked a smile at that, “Soda is my alcohol.”

“Alright, you can be an honorary member of the alcohol intolerance club.” Luka laughed when she hummed gleefully. “Dork.”

“Nerd.”

“So, back on topic, Adrien just really had no excuse then?”

“Ha, no, even his dad stopped by an hour ago to congratulate me and get press photos done to promote the line. All his son did for me was send a text with a sad face attached to his cancellation.”

“... I can kick his ass, you know?”

“I know, I’m just saving for a rainy day.” She laughed, stepping closer to his side and wrapping both arms around his. “So, the ticket, you party crasher.”

“Right, yeah, I may or may not have called your assistant earlier today to swipe it. I took a guess that she held onto it for safe keeping so-,”

“She’s new, I’m not surprised she just gave it up that easily.” She let Luka guide her into a dance. One hand with painted black holding hers to his chest, the other gently tugging to hold his shoulder before he held her waist.

“Oh, that, that explains a lot now.”

“What?”

He flinched, a nervous glint flashing across his features. “I may or may not have lied about who exactly I was since she didn’t know my name-,”

“Doesn’t listen to your music, already told her the sin she was committing.”

“And who I was to you, specifically-,”

Marinette tilted her head back in a laugh, Luka’s arm tightening to brace her weight, “You said you were my husband, didn’t you?”

He flushes at a memory of once getting a creep off her back a year ago by claiming that very title to her.

“Erm, no, I said I was your boyfriend and may have sold it by saying some pet name and swooning over you just a little,” he watched her eyes go wide then soft, a smile twitching to show. He stepped closer, almost pulling her flush to him, “But if that’s what you want, I can go out and get some marriage certificate?”

She flushed, lips parting and a rush of air passing them.

“Maybe call Jagged up and fly us to Vegas? I mean, we’re both looking good right now, you more so.” Her face went a shade or two deeper. She jumped in surprise when he let go of her hand to play with a tendril again on the right side, tilting her face to press a kiss to her left cheek. “God, you’re such a pretty little thing.”

She squeaked.

“What, what was the pet name?”

“Hm?” He lazily met her gaze, a dream like haze filter over them as he moved her body to sway with his. “Oh, that.”

“What was it?”

Baby, babygirl, beautiful, gorgeous- he may have said more than one.

He gave a slow and wicked grin, twirling her out and back into his chest in a swift and stunning movement as he nudged his nose to hers.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased, smile spreading wider and radiant as she forgot to breathe for a second.

What. A fucking. Tease.

The need for him to make good on his words and looks hit through her hard and reminded her of their one night together that they both never forgotten. And how much she wished that was every night, as long as it ended up with them curled right around each other and love and happiness coaxing them to sleep instead of stress and loneliness.

He watched her steel her gaze, her jaw tightened. He swallowed when her height, now of five feet thanks to heels, straightened and forced him to pull up. A violent shiver rocked through him when both hands held along the back of his neck, one slipping under the collar of his shirt to scratch along the nape.

“Marinette-,” he choked.

“I’m only asking so I can show my reciprocation.” She leaned closer, kicking her shoes off into some corner and standing on his converse that every elder of theirs had eyed in question during the night. He supported her actions fully, of course. Still stepping them around in dance within a fluid motion. “Not gonna tell me, hun?”

He coughed, loudly and looked away from her to catch his breath. Watching adults cheat on spouses everywhere or everyone else minding their own business to stare at models or the shrimp on the tables.

He almost tripped when she wined in protest, her hand gripping his chin lightly and turning it to face her. His eyes were flickering between admiration, lust and love, growing three shades of deeper blue than was possible.

“C’mon, baby, tell me.”

“Baby?” He stammered out in surprise. Teenage Luka was having a fucking field day with this. “Marinette, I was only joking earlier and-,”

“Were you really though?”

“No,” his response was fast and instant, a wince playing at the corner of his eyes and his button nose scrunching in loss of control.

“Hey handsome,” he preened under the nickname passing her lips, even if close to millions called him the same thing, it paid more effect when it was Marinette calling him it. “Tell me why you came tonight.”

His neck was aching from staring down to meet her eyes now that the heels were gone but he let himself down lower to press his forehead to hers. “Because you deserve better than what he gives you.”

The girl stilled, expecting an awkward or a flirtatious remark. “What?”

The rockstar looked away sheepishly, a little ashamed. “I know you’re considering getting with him, but when I heard he was canceling on you I let my jealousy win out and I just wanted to be there for you.” He bit his lip when he felt her tugging his face back in her direction, choosing to resist the pressure. “You have to believe me when I say I came with no ulterior motives other than protecting you from going stag to your own party tonight.”

“You, you came to protect me?”

He shrugged, another small shiver racking through him when her hands moved along and glided across his neck. “And make sure you had a good night. I even asked your mom what you were wearing tonight just so I could make sure my outfit complimented yours to cheer you up.”

She was silent for a minute or so, and he waited, patiently as ever and guiding her to rest her head against his chest as he swayed them.

Luka, doing all the work. Luka, taking matters into his own hands when someone fails her. Luka, going the extra mile to make sure she has a happy memory.

Fuck giving second chances to other people. Luka is the only one to have shown her he’s the most earning of the concept and notion.

She pulls away, feeling the slight reluctance in his arms on her waist before they drop to his side, “Grab my heels.”

He raises a black brow but complies, turning to find them and hooking his fingers in the backs. He eyes them, used to seeing her shoes laying around the Liberty when she comes over or even at her own place, but he always has to remark that, “You have small feet.”

“You’ve also called them cute,” she huffs, tugging on his hand and pulling him near the entrance.

He follows, like they always do for one another. “Because they are- where are we going?” He stops them as they round an empty corridor, away from the hotel’s event room where the party is still very much happening. The heel of his palm grips tight to archway, pressing against it, the small shoes still dangling in his hold.

“Home, your place or mine. Actually, mine’s closer.”

He laughs brightly, “You can’t ditch your own party for another movie night, Mari.”

The petite girl turns to him, a fierce expression in his eyes that makes him swallow harshly. “No, but I can ditch to celebrate in getting what I really want. For finally getting what I want.”

“The Chinese takeout place is closed this time of ni-,”

“You.”

“What?” Luka wheezes, he blinks stupidly at her. Prettily and stupidly. He straightens, freehand tugging at his collar a little like he needs room to breathe. “Come again?”

“I’m going home. I’m taking you with me. And we’re gonna celebrate that I finally got off my ass and got what I wanted.”

He hums, nervously and a bounce starting in his hand, a shake in one hand, his dark brows furrow, “And you want?”

“You.”

“You- you want,” he sucks in a sharp breath, pain flashing across his features as he clears his throat. “You want me?”

Her eyes soften, a smile showing as she steps closer to him and takes his face into her hands, pulling him down to be eye level with her as he braces his weight on the wall next to them with a hand.

“Yes,” he looks awestruck as she giggles. “I want you... can you let me keep you?”

He laughs nervously, “I’ll fucking sell myself to you if that’s what you really want, fuck.”

She’s smiling, leaning up on tiptoes to alleviate the strain in his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips, muffling the undignified noise of surprise that escapes him. She lets him get used to her for a second, kissing him slowly and purposely as starts to eventually overcome the shock and kiss her back in reverence.

He pulls away suddenly, a guilted expression on his face.

“Wait, wait. What about Adrien?”

“What about him?”

Luka fidgets, a quick glimpse of insecurities and jealousy showing to her before he regains a semblance of control after having his walls knocked down. “He’s been trying to go out with you, win you affections.”

He only knows of the situation, but never presses her to talk about it. It’s natural for it to come up in conversation everyday when he asks her about work knowing the stress of being twenty-two in a high end fashion company could be a bit more than overwhelming. He wanted to be a safe place to her since the beginning.

“There’s nothing about him. I’ve shut him down an handful of times and now it’s just a matter of letting him indulge himself in what he thinks are romantic gestures when me saying no doesn’t cut it. There’s nothing going on between him and I, just his belief that my crush from years ago accounts for something today.”

Luka still looks wary and isn’t touching her, most likely his conscious trying to be the better person between him and Adrien by not going out with the girl his friend is pining after.

Even if said girl is Luka’s legitimate best friend and the very same girl he’s been in love with since he was a kid.

Marinette feels like it’s a dirty tactic as she gets closer to him, trying to gauge where it’s jealousy and where it’s insecurity in regards to Adrien.

She presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Luka’s head turns minutely at the attention, tilting less than a centimeter to catch her lips before he catches himself. He struggles when her next kiss falls to his lips and is soft and slow, how he always wants to kiss her.

“Remember our first kiss?” She whispers, wounding arms around his waist and pressing close to him.

He matches her volume, an adoring look winning for a split second, “Of course I remember.”

“Remember our first date?”

“At the ice cream parlor, you wore a pink skirt that kept twirling when you did.” She feels his resolve break a little, his own right to be selfish with her slipping out a little.

His arms slip around her, and he presses a gentle kiss to her temple. “Remember our goodbye at the airport?” His arms tightening around her speak more volumes than his strained, “Yes,” does.

She’s just a little closer to convincing him to stop being so sacrificial with his own wants or needs. She just has to push more.

“Remember waking up in one another’s arms that morning?”

He’s silent for a few seconds, thinking of what he can say in response to that. Wondering how honest to be, “... every day, I think of that morning every day.”

She still hears the clipped apprehension in his voice. That tone she knows so well that’s gonna lead into him giving her advice to rethink this whole decision and talk to him when she’s absolutely sure. How she shouldn’t think on impulse and lunge at what she wants unless she knows she does wanna keep with it.

But, he has to know she always thinks back on moments with him and that she longs to have jumped on impulse if it meant being with him.

Every time he’s showed up with takeout at her place. When he smiles so freely at her. When he bandages her cuts and blisters from working all night long.

When he showed up tonight looking like he had been her dare to begin with. How her heart felt when he admitted to lying to her secretary. The way he looked carrying her high heels that were much too small for his hands but he didn’t care because she asked him to.

How he crashed her own party to make sure she’d have fun tonight.

She’s sure she wants this, him.

All those nicknames they could call each other. All the benefits of dating the other and having a date to everything the other needs to attend. Having her best friend be her boyfriend meaning there’s no holding back from anything.

She’ll cringe about it in the morning, but it’s gotta work to break his long instilled fear of being a bad friend or person. Of being unselfish.

“Do you still remember that night?”

She’s sure he’s stopped breaking by the way his entire body seems to shut down, but then it reboots and he’s shaking against her and can’t seem to breathe correctly, his eyes avoiding hers as he swallows again and looking like he’s willing to risk going into an allergic reaction for the sake of one drink.

“That- that’s not something you forget, Marinette.” His hands are twitching on her waist, grip tightening just a little and a vein is jumping in his arm to do something to prove he remembers alright.

One more push, “Do you still remember how I tasted that night?”

He seizes her waist, lunging to kiss her desperately like he did that night and when he left, a growl passing his lips onto hers. He’s cupping the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair, breathing her in and shaking against her as his resolves breaks completely and the selfish side comes out. The one that’s nowhere near as selfish as the average person, but enough to take in the matter of his own needs and wants. He pulls back, letting her watch his eyes darken, the pupils expanding until the blues are next to near mere ridges of color. He’s watching hers do the same before he nudges her nose and kisses her slowly, more loving and affectionate. His control slipping back into place and resulting in the Luka she so loves regaining the handles of his own mind.

He’s careful in the way he tugs her lip with his teeth, how he coaxes her to let him kiss her fully before pull back and panting against her lips.

“Yes, I remember,” his voice is rough and he has to glance away from her and straighten. She watches him take a few meditative breaths before he looks back at her.

“Does that really help?” She gestures to his chest and mouth, “the breathing?”

He laughs hollowly, “No, not really, but it bought me time to create some distance in this,” he glances around, “Not your apartment place.”

She laughs at the suddenly horrified look that crosses his face, the image of them making out and the threat of almost being caught in public instantly dawning on him. He glares playfully at her.

“You did that all on purpose.”

“Had to, you were just about to give me up for the sake of being a good friend to me and Adrien.” She pauses, a wicked idea forming to prove her point, “Unless, you want Adrien to know what that all is like?”

A dark look crosses Luka’s face; unrestrained bouts of suppressed jealousy, possessiveness and territoriality. “No,” he growls out, eyes squeezing shut and having to clear his throat. “I’d rather not let him know any of that personally.”

“Not even how I taste?”

“Marinette,” he warned, the growl resurfacing. She cooed, wrapping him up in a hug and pressing a kiss to his jaw as an apology. He whined, “It’s not funny when you do that.”

“No, but everything you feel is alright to feel. Don’t hold back for the sake of not being selfish. You can be selfish with me, you’re a reasonable guy and know boundaries.” She sighed, nuzzling further into his warm embrace. “I don’t like Adrien the way he wants me to, and lately, it’s hard to even be his friend. He needs to move on from me. Hell, I’m better friends with Félix now than him.”

“Just hope they don’t switch up on you again.”

She huffed in amusement. “God no, I’d kill them.”

“It’s adorable how how your less than five feet body resorts to violence and death threats.”

“Mm, except you, I’m quite fond of you.” She looks up at him, chin pressed to his chest and smiling when he looks at her softly and presses a kiss to her nose. “This, us, is not an impulse. Just a restrained want I’ve had for awhile.”

“Okay, I understand now.”

She grins cheekily at him, “Or need, if that makes you all possessive hot yet secretly adorable rockstar boyfriend mode again.”

“Boyfriend?” He smiled slowly, radiant as always and heart stopping. “If teenage me could hear you, he’d probably shut down from being overwhelmed.”

“Nineteen year old you certainly didn’t that night,” she mumbles, grinning at the loud bark of laughter that surprises the both of them when Luka throws his head back.

“Yeah, thanks for reminding me what age I lost it at, totally rockstar of me, right?” The blush that’s coating his neck and ears is adorable, a shy smile quirking at her briefly.

“I think it’s sweet, cute even.”

“Yeah, because you’re the one I lost it to.” He deadpanned without conviction. “But, I guess I’ll take being sweet and cute.”

“It’s okay though, I mean, I did the cliché of losing my virginity to someone I was in love with.” Luka does in fact shut down in her embrace hearing that. Hands jittering against her and fingers tapping like he’s trying to speak through notes against her skin.

He takes another minute, before pressing a kiss to her hair. “If this is you confessing your love to me -and believe me, it’s killing me to stop you right now, I’d rather you do it in regards to another topic and not the fact that we were one another’s first time.” He avoids the dangerous smirk aimed his way, or the sharp angle of her cocked, black brow above breathtaking blues. “C’mon, let’s go dance some more and celebrate your success before we leave, maybe find your assistant to introduce me as your boyfriend to.”

She pours at him when he tugs on her hand in the direction of the party. “But-,”

He breathed out shakily, a waning patient look in his eyes and a false smirk aimed at her. “Can I sleep over tonight?”

“Do you want to?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “I’m very close to just following you home at this point, trust me. I don’t care how the night ends, just as long as it’s you and me tonight.”

She’s letting him make them dance again, feeling as the nerves leave his body as he gets them to fall in step with the tempo. He doesn’t care that he has to bend a little ways down to rest his cheek on her hair, not when she’s letting him pull her up against his chest when she typically only reaches the bottom of his rib cage.

They work well together, they fit perfectly together because they’re more than used to the instinctive adapting to one another.

Her hands cup his cheeks, kissing him carefully without reservation and the anxiety, “It was only an impulse at times because I love you and have for awhile.”

Luka deepens the kiss just a little, thankful she’s the type of girlfriend to let him indulge in her as he smiles, “I get it, I’ve had my share of impulsive thoughts for as long as I’ve been in love with you since we were young. I love you, Mari.”

“Enough to crash a party for me, apparently,” she whispered, a little moved by the thought that they were finally together. He thumbed her tears away.

“Enough to kill Adrien or Félix if you ask me to,” he replied in a loving tone, soothing her gasps for air when she broke apart in giggles against his chest in reaction.

He didn’t leave after that night. And he went to every party as her date too.

[monkiesrthekey]

Gold Watchers x Reader (headcanons)

Alright well... at first I wanted to write a Gold Watcher x Reader fanfic but I'm not very good at writting the whole thing so I'll just leave some headcanons. (Warning: I don't consider my english to be very good so... sorry if I don't write something gramatically correctly.)

When you enter the Deadly Decadence map and start wandering around, as soon as the Gold Watchers spot you they are entranced by your beauty and think you're some kind of princess or royalty. (You're very beautiful to them, that's the point.)

Usually whenever somebody entered the maze the Gold Watchers would always burst out in laughter because of the many ways they imagine to kill whoever came. But this time they would just laugh because they were so excited to meet you (strange but cute). So while they follow you they giggle 'cause they can't wait to hang around with you.

At some point, while collecting the shards within the maze, you finally get caught by one of the Gold Watchers. But... they don't hurt you. They just stand next to you admiring you. You notice the same coming from the other Gold Watchers not very far from you inside the maze.

After somehow chatting with them you come to peaceful terms and they even swear to not harm you and promise to protect you while you stay with them.

They invite you to a big elegant (mostly improvised) party at the manor, every one of the Gold Watchers would assist. Yes, even the Titan Watcher. Though they'd stay outside. Otherwise they'd crush the whole place.

They (strangely) had a wardrobe inside de manor. You wondered why since they're statues, but you also taught: "They're statues who can literally walk and talk/make sounds." So you decided to just not question it. Anyhow, one of them offered you many options from the wardrobe to dress for the party. Such as beautiful dresses or elegant suits that had a different design but similar style from theirs.

Every single Gold Watcher was SO into you. Everyone wanted to be right next to you and chat with you. If you got suffocated by the attention they would sure notice and give you the space you need, but not living you fully alone. They'd still be a few meters away from you in case you needed anything.

At some point, a Gold Watcher asked you to dance with him. Of course, so did the others. You didn't want to let them down so you agreed to dance with everyone for just a few minutes each. It'd probably take you all night dancing with everyone since they were so many of them but is not like you had anything else to do...

(Imagine yourself dancing to music similar to Kingdom Dance from the movie "Tangled" or Merry-Go-Round from "Howl's moving castle").

After the party you felt exhausted. A few Gold Watchers made sure to take you to the nicest most comfortable bedroom in the manor.

Once inside, you saw a king size bed covered in blue bed sheets and white pillows. You just straight up crashed on the bed.

Of course the Gold Watchers would have loved to stay and watch you sleep but they had to be outside or around the manor in case somebody else entered the maze.

One of them carefully stroke your cheek with its golden hand. You weren't completely asleep, so the last thing you'd remember feeling was something as soft as a human hand.

Even though the Gold Watchers were made of gold, their skin felt more human-like than actual hard gold.

I think that's all. Hope you liked one or two of my headcanons. It felt more like writting a fanfic but whatever, hope I got my ideas across.

[mysteriesgalplusdamianthings]

Homeward Bound (NSFW)

This is a small snipit from my damimaps oneshot. This was based on a prompt wish list from @gumbloodygirl I really like, there were like eight other prompts that I might take a gander at later down the road but this stood out to me.

This one was where Maps and Damian venture back to Gotham with a little surprise for the fam, after a whole year of raising their child away from home.

So a big thank you @gumbloodygirl for the prompt.

Warning: it has smut obviously, so read at your own risk.

Here's the link if you want to read the rest of it: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32561929

Happy Reading!!!!

Maps felt uncomfortable.

Very uncomfortable.

She breathed laboriously shifting awkwardly in her bed, groaning as she did, her eyes slowly fluttered open to be faced with her ceiling. She blinked away the sleep in her eyes, reaching up to rub leisurely at them. Maps wanted to spread out her aching body but found that she couldn't, what she first had noticed was that she felt somewhat pleasantly warm. The second was a substantial weight laying on her bare chest.

Ah, now she remembers, Maps thought fondly.

She sighed contently as she reached down to run her thin fingers through his soft hair, she heard a soft moan from the man on top of her as he snuggled up closer to her, wrapping his arms securely around her waist. Maps placed a soft kiss on his head before she looked over at her clock and read two-thirty in the morning.

The soft glow of the moonlight casting through her window was the only source of light she had, permitting her to turn her attention back to Damian, studying the defined lines and contours of his face to her heart's content. His head rested comfy buried between her breasts, as one of his legs was tucked snugly in between both of hers; so she's entirely and utterly wrapped up in his warmth.

Enwrapped in him.

She couldn't help but chuckle lightly at how cute he looked sleeping on her like this. She ran her thumb across his swollen lips reviving their last-night activities that lead up to this cherished minute. They had basically planned to have a late pizza date night, by starting the evening off with watching a whole marathon of shark week together. Not even ten minutes into the first episode did they venture off into something else... now laid a half-empty box of cheese pizza on their nightstand and a still paused shark week on their tv.

Maps contemplated reaching over for the remote to shut the tv off, but feard waking Damian up in the process. So she settled for leaving it on, they could continue it later on if they had time.

Especially since Damian had promised they'd finish the episode after they were done with their lovemaking, but he had immediately fallen asleep after a few rounds of them tumbling unitedly between sheets with sweet nothings and desperate kisses.

Although, Maps couldn't find it in herself to be upset or even annoyed at their plans being ruined. Moments like this were somewhat of a rare occurrence in their day-to-day life, however, it's not so much due to work or patroling that's been necessarily keeping them busy.

So this was a welcoming atmosphere; or the calm before the storm.

Maps let out a weary sigh.

She knew the conversation she was going to have with him wasn't going to be an easy one, but it was something she needed to address. She can't keep putting this on hold anymore, it wasn't healthy and they both knew it is the right choice for the three of them, for everyone.

She gazed in thought up at the ceiling, pondering on how to go about telling him.

Maybe she could get Dick to convince him? Or Alfred? They always knew what to say to get Damian to compromise.

Maps slowly maneuver her hand from his hair and down his back, her fingers rippled over the many scars and burns he's obtained over the years. She sighed again, as she gets to thinking about the new chapter in their life.

Leaving their new home in Arlington for Gotham.

It was a big step, an overwhelming, terrifying, and nerve-racking step, all at a cost for various reasons.

The main one relates to the boy who is at the moment using her as a body pillow; namely the life he left behind to start a new one with her to be exact. It had happened about a year ago, when she had discovered she was pregnant with Damian's child.

It had been the happiest moment of their lives, knowing that there was a life growing inside of her. It was at that realization that they decided to move, to find a place that wasn't surrounded by its own corruption, a place with new beginnings, a place where they can just leave everything behind and start anew.

They had found that place here in Arlington, yes, of course, it had its pros and cons but it was nice and it was theirs.

But unfortunately, they had moved before their son Isaac was born.

So the family had never gotten the chance to meet him. Their little bundle of joy; the light of their life. And that was something Maps wasn't too thrilled with, no she was absolutely not having any of it.

No matter what happened in their past, or what Gotham consisted of, the bats were Isaac's family too and they have every right to see their nephew and be a family with him.

Damian was just going to have to accept that.

She didn't care if she had to move back to Gotham by herself. Isaac was going to meet the people she now calls her family. Although she will admit, she couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive about what the future holds for them, all of them really.

Moving back to Gotham could mean chaos and trouble, but dammit' it was still her home, she grew up there with all her friends, and had even found the love of her life in that godforsaken city.

Gotham may be an eternal damnation, but she had so many treasured memories there. Even if it was a shared agreement between the two of them to leave the city, it hadn't made the move any easier.

And it's not like she wants to leave without her husband... but he can be so selfish and stubborn at times. Maps chewed on the inside of her lip anxiously, or maybe she was the one being selfish?

She glanced down at Damian's sleeping form, so peacefully, completely unaware of the war going on in her head.

"Stop thinking already," he mumbles into her chest.

Or maybe not.

"Damian, did I wake you?" Maps asked, watching him shift lightly.

"You're pinching me," Damian grumbles shifting again and away from her hand.

She looked over and found herself pinching at one of his prominent scars, something she had picked up a year into their marriage, it was a small habit she did when she was thinking hard about something. She smoothed her hand down his back then up to his hair again, pressing another gentle kiss to his head.

"Sorry, I can't help it." Maps whispered, pressing another kiss to his forehead. Damian settled back into her as he sighed into her bosom. Maps felt his hot breath spread up to her neck, she slightly shivered as heat spread throughout her body.

"What's wrong?" he asked, voice sleep-laden and spent.

Maps pause for a moment, now is a good of a time as any to tell him. Better rip the band-aid off now before she chickens out.

She breathes in then out to calm her racing heart, her chest heaved with effort. She let the silence settle in to collect herself some more before answering him.

She breathed then said, "I want to move back to Gotham," she quietly declares into the silent air, hoping her rapid beating heart would just calm down already. Damian stays silent for a moment or two, laying completely still, listening to the beats of her heart.

Maps bit her lip hard as her nerves rush up in her stomach and then into her chest, she was always making declarations like this in the worst times.

Maybe she should have waited until he was fully rested... but then he'd have more energy to argue back with her if she did.

Her hand stills in his hair as she franticly tries to backtrack her statement, but stopped in her mid-panic attack as she felt him move to sit up, now he's staring down at her with a serious look coating his eyes.

He doesn't look mad... but he doesn't look too happy either.

"Why?" he asked the question simply as if he was trying to understand, voice taught and probing. Maps reached her hands up to wrap one around his neck and the other to stroke his cheek gazing up at him with warm pleading eyes.

She smiled as he leaned into her touch, "I want your family to meet our son, I want him to have a life with the people we love Damian, I want them to share these precious moments we have with Isaac with everyone else, that's why." Maps replied back in a soft tone to let him know that she was genuine about what she stated, showing her concern for their son's future.

Damian frowned gently, his gaze intensified.

After a moment of quietness, he uttered, "No," with a sharp tone removing her hand from his face. "And that's final, go back to sleep."

"What?" Maps exclaimed hurt and confused, she knew Damian wasn't going to agree so easily but to reject her proposal without so much as a reason why made her angry. And Maps wasn't one to back down so easily, she hastily sat up glaring at him, and shouted.

"Why not? This will be good for him, for us, why can't you see that?" She threw her hands up as the covers slid down to their waist, the two unmoved by the sudden chill of the room hitting their naked bodies.

Damian straightens back his shoulders to appear taller as he glared down at her with equal fervor.

He crossed his arms against his broad chest, "We had both agreed that we will raise our son somewhere that wasn't Gotham, somewhere far away from the caps and cowls and now after building a stationary life here, you want to go back?" Damian shouted back as his eyes glowed a familiar shade of green, Maps wasn't discouraged by it.

"Yes," Maps replied plain and simple, folding her arms across her chest as well. The two stared down at each other, daring the other to back down, but neither was budging.

"No," he repeated again with more power to his voice, Maps rolled her eyes.

"Give me one good reason why we shouldn't?" she snapped back.

"It's dangerous," he replied.

She scoffed, "Everywhere is dangerous Damian," she spat back rolling her head animatedly, flattening her hands to her hips as if challenging him to continue.

His glare hardened, "Because I said so," he hissed.

"That's not a good reason," she shouted back.

Damian growled, feeling agitated by the minute. He wasn't fully awake to be having this conversation with her, he'll need to turn the tables in his favor. With that idea in mind, an idea pops into his head.

Damian leans in and presses a soft peck to her lips, surprising her for a millisecond before he leaned in further to give her an open-mouth kiss. Maps gasped as she backs away in shock, Damian places his hand on her shoulders gently pushing her down back into the mattress.

Maps had to blink a few times because this was not what she had expected from him.

Maps indistinctly tried to stifle a small groan, as he was now vigorously sucking on her neck, ugh he was being such a complete moron, her stupidly cute moron. Oh God, she loves this man so much, but she's all but ready to punch him in his stupid face.

"D-Damian," Maps shrikes as Damian rubs his thumb against her left nipple.

"Shh, you'll wake Isaac," he muttered into her neck, repositioning himself so he's fully situated between her legs again, which she subconsciously made room for him to do so.

He lies his full body weight on top of her's so the hard planes of his chest was pressed against her soft plump bust.

"I doubt that," she whispered, unsure at the moment, glancing at the door connected to their bedroom that was hosting their child's nursery.

"Anyways we were talking about- ah!" Maps gasped out loud, observing Damian move to bite at her nipple.

"I said no already, will you just drop it," he said kissing the gap between her breast, Maps whined. He pressed his kisses down the valley of her breast, to her navel, all the way down to her pelvic.

He sat upon his knees and forced her legs apart, staring at her wet pussy hungrily, she watched him bow his head between her thighs and gasped as his nose met her hot skin.

Maps clawed at the blankets closing her eyes tight before dropping her head onto her pillow, "H-hey would you sto-mph," his warm breath warned her a second before he brushed his lips against her cunt, spreading her folds with his tongue, he dragged his hot tongue slowly along her clit and teased her.

Humming as his tongue slid in and out of her, running his large hands up and down her quivering legs.

She pulled desperately, trying to pull away, feeling herself become undone by his skillful lips by the second, he grabbed her hips and held her in place keeping her trapped.

She tensed as his tongue flicked over her clit again causing her to jerk upwards, "Ah, Damian!" Maps whispered breathlessly.

He ignored her pleases, pushing a thick finger inside of her, adding another in after hearing a sharp gasp leave her lips. Moving them in and out in time with his mouth, his motions intensified hearing a long sluty moan echo in his ears, he smirked.

"A-at least give it a-ah chance, a month and oh! mph... if you don't like it we could always just m-move back." Maps pleaded, hoping he'd stop distracting her long enough so she could think properly.

But at last, she wasn't going to get such a request any time soon, as Damian moved from her cunt, back up to her neck, then finally her lips. Placing random kisses on her nose, cheek, and forehead still pumping his fingers in and out of her at a vigorous pace.

He was playing a dirty game here.

"Damian-mph" Maps was silenced by his lips connecting with hers grazing a path along her bottom lip with his warm tongue and nips gently with his teeth. Causing her to open her mouth for him so he could deepen the kiss.

Without thinking, Maps wraps her arms around Damian's neck pulling him in closer as their tounges intertwine in a fight for dominance.

Damian won.

Getting lost in the sensation that is Damian, he pulls his fingers free from her throbbing walls causing a short whine from her into their embrace, naturally, he starts grinding into her, creating delicious friction between the two, drawing a deep moan from them both.

Maps couldn't help but grind back into him as their bodies moved like waves together, creating a smooth rhythm. He reached down to knead at her hips and one of her breasts, rolling his index finger and thumb over her right nipple giving it some much-needed attention.

"Damian please," Maps whined breathlessly, Damian couldn't help but smile.

"Please what?" he said teasingly, knowing he now has the upper hand.

"I- you... this- ah! this isn't fair," Maps half-cries and half-moans out loud as he enters her.

"This is fair love," he whispers into her ear as he starts to move in and out of her in slow motions and the occasional roll of his hips, dragging out his thrusts. Causing slight grating against her clit, generating yet another familiar vulgar moan to escape her lips, prompting Damian to moan as well.

Damian sighed heated and sharp in her ear finding her little groans the most enraptured noise to ever grace his ears.

Damian moved his hands down to grip her hips as he thrusts up into her hard. And for a while, the only sound that filled their room was their bodies slapping against each other and scattered breathy moans from the both of them.

"N-no, I-" Maps slides her hands up his chest for leverage as he speeds up his pace, she just couldn't get a single word out for every time she did he'd bottom her out completely stealing her breath away, forgetting what she had wanted to say in the first place.

Damit, she wasn't going out like this.

Maps frowned and leaned up to bit his shoulder, prompting Damian jerk in pain. She quickly shoved him off pushing him to the side so his back was now laying flat on their mattress.

She wastes no time shifting their positions so she was now straddling him, placing both her hands flat on his chest, she looked down at him with dark determined eyes.

"Listen here you idiot," Maps snapped, watching Damian's eyes widen with shock and if she wasn't mistaken... a bit of pride too. "We're doing this whether you like it or not, I already bought the tickets so you can either stay here and sulk while I and your son leave or you can come with us and be a family." Maps huffed angrily, as Damian silently, begrudgingly, contemplated his options.

He sighed closing his eyes, "Fine, but only for a month," he brooded looking like a pouty child.

Maps squealed excitedly leaning down to shower him in kisses and thank you's.

"I promise you won't regret this and this way Isaac can see his uncles and grandpa and-" Damian reached up behind her head smashing her lips against his, he pulled back with a smug smirk.

"Why don't we continue where we left off before you go on your little amusing rant," he suggested placing his hands where her thighs and ass meet.

Maps nodded with a giggle, as Damian began moving her up and down while simultaneously thrusting up into her, picking up his pace where he had left off.

Leaving nothing but soft moans amidst the couple, echoing all throughout the night.

[shysneeze]

good enough (draco malfoy x fem!reader)

Good Enough

Draco Malfoy x fem!Slytherin!Reader 

*based loosley on the song ‘line without a hook’ by ricky montgomery*  

Request: can I ask for Draco x reader where the reader is sassy, but also kind Slytherin (like one of the kind Slytherin)?? And Draco has a huge crush on her? Super fluffy? ~ @lennylangdraws 

Warnings: low self-esteem, angst, smidge of house stereotyping, i don’t know the meaning of fluff im so sorry 

Authors note: you asked for fluff and I have no excuses for how this turned out except this song has been stuck in my head for weeks now. I hope you like it anyway despite the angst... i tried to make it fluffy make up at the end?

Also, I’m not saying this is a prequel to vulnerable love, but it kinda fits... pretty sure it makes vulnerable love hurt more though.)

.

Draco wasn’t sure it was possible to want back what he’s never had.

He never knew being stuck in the awkward phase of being an ‘almost couple’ is something he could miss, that he’d ever long to feel the heat that would creep up his cheeks when their eyes met, to feel the nauseating butterflies flap in his stomach when she smiled at him or the jolt of nervous energy that would rip through him whenever their fingers accidentally grazed each other’s under tables or in corridors.

Yet now that those little things are beyond his grasp, he’s desperate for them again, desperate for her. It might be easier to miss her if she were gone, rather than just sitting at the other end of the Slytherin table, or across the room during classes, it would be easier not to see her, the constant reminder of what he’s allowed him self to ruin.

They weren’t supposed to get along, every conflicting personality trait dooming them to a life as enemies. Everyone knows her, the ‘nice’ Slytherin. It’s a title given to her by her classmates, the too-cocky Gryffindors who can’t see past Slytherin’s bad reputation as bullies and snobs, a bad-reputation fuelled by Draco Malfoy himself.

No one could have expected them to end up the way they did, dates in Hogsmeade or hushed conversations by the common room fire in the early hours of the morning and afternoons spent by the lake. No one could have expected them to get along so well.

Draco knows that everyone has expected this though, for them to fall apart before they’ve even had the chance to begin. It’s what they’ve expected of him all along after all, to break her heart.

He’s pretty sure he hasn’t got the right to be looking for her like this, seeking her out desperately to get her back, once again deluded into believing he ever had her in the first place. He’s the one who called it off in a moment of certainty that it was the right thing to do, a selfless act. And so it’s wrong for him to be here right now, back in their secret spot.

She’s exactly where he assumed she would be, curled beneath the tree she was always affectionately calling theirs. His entire body tenses painfully at the sight of her, face hidden in her palms and body shaking, not from the cold, but from the trembling of barely silenced sobs.

He wonders if it’s his racing heart that she can hear that alerts her to his presence and has her looking up from her hands, teary eyes meeting his in surprise. Then, she pulls her brows into a well-justified scowl and a lump forms in Draco’s throat that he can’t seem to swallow.

“What are you doing here?”

An incredibly valid question for which Draco can only provide selfish answers. It seems silly to tell her that he’s hear to win her back, and futile given her growing anger. Yet he won’t be able to live with himself if he doesn’t, miserable without her.

“I miss you.” He gulps honestly. “Truthfully, I’ve been a mess without you.”

“Merlin, Draco.” She gasps out a laugh of disbelief. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you started ignoring me. Frankly, that isn’t really my issue.”

“I know.” He sighs apologetically. “I know, I didn’t mean-“

“Just get it over with, Draco.” She rolls her eyes. “Say your piece and leave me alone.”

He nods, taking hesitant steps forward towards her, the frost coated grass crunching under foot. She avoids his eyes as he takes a seat beside her, staring determinedly at her lap and making a conscious attempt to hide the quickly accumulating tears.

“Aren’t you cold?”

She lets out a loud exasperated sigh and refuses him an answer. He agrees with the sentiment of it, regretted the stupidity of it the minute it left his lips. Still, he leans forward to pull the Slytherin scarf from his neck and twists himself to allow him to wrap it loosely around hers, fussing with it until he’s reassured that she’ll be warmer for it.

“You looked cold.”

“Tis’ the season.” She mumbles sarcastically.

Her sarcasm is another thing he’s missed from her, and it draws a momentary smile to his face. Then, the moment is over, and his eyes have fixed on the tear stains painting her cheeks, proof of his own fatal mistake.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

She scoffs.

“Two weeks overdue.”

“I know.” He agrees sheepishly. “I know, (Y/N).”

“Then why are you only here now?” She questions. “Why did you do it in the first place? You can’t just act like you have feelings for someone then disappear and ignore them for weeks!”

Her voice wobbles and cracks at the end, much to her own dismay, and each breath she takes is jagged in the way one’s always is when trying to conceal tears. He watches her press the balls of her palm to her eyes in frustration, letting out a small whimper that has every inch of him aching with remorse.

Part of him, a self-preserving part, tells him to lie. It’s a side of himself he’s grown to hate recently, the side that pushed him into this mess in the first place, and so he knows better than to bargain with it again. So, with a deep breath, he chooses to tell the truth, he chooses to be vulnerable.

“I’m not good enough.”

Although exhaled in a whisper the revelation is startlingly loud. Perhaps its due to the serene quiet always felt on crisp cold days like today, where the sun hangs low in the sky and the lake lies unimaginably still, or perhaps it’s the raw honestly in the statement that makes it seem so alarmingly bold.

She blinks at him, lips parting in surprise and brows furrowing in confusion or concern, Draco isn’t sure. He can hear his pulse in his ears, a slight trembling in his hands that he knows has nothing to do with the chilly breeze. He’s done something profound, terrifying even, and opened that vulnerably part of himself to someone, with no control over what happens to it next.

“What?” She manages.

“Everyone knows it, (Y/N).” He explains nervously. “I’m a terrible match for you.” 

“Who the hell is everyone” She frowns. “Since when did they matter?”

There is a certain protective edge to her voice that he doesn’t deserve, but it replays itself in his head over and over, clinging to it for hope. It takes him a moment to let it go again, to push it down and answer.

“They’re right.” He sighs. “You’re too good a person for me, I’m too Slytherin.”

The concern instantly leaves her eyes, she sits forward with an urgent look of disbelief and another of her signature scoffs. She’s giving him an inspective look, trying to figure out if he’s serious, or if he’s suddenly picked up a new, strange sense of humour.

“You’re kidding, right?”

He isn’t quite sure what to say and his silence fuels another disbelieving shake of her head.

“I am a Slytherin, Draco.” She exclaims. “No matter what those big-headed Gryffindors are always saying, I was sorted into Slytherin and I’m proud of it- you’re supposed to be proud too, not agreeing with those stupid stereotypes.”

“It’s different.” He exhales in frustration. “I am those stupid stereotypes!”

Draco Malfoy has never been considered modest.

Self-confidence isn’t a trait earned in the Malfoy family clan, but rather inherited between generations, a birth right bestowed upon them the minute they are old enough to understand. It’s a confidence Draco has always been comfortably protected by, unwaveringly sure of his own self-importance gifted to him by his ancestors

Yet something about the infamously kind (Y/N) (Y/L/N) has him constantly falling apart at the seams with the need to be good enough for her. He’s never met anyone like her, no one so capable of making him question the unwarranted self-importance he was raised on as a Malfoy.

Even now, wrapped unceremoniously in his scarf, late falling orange leaves lying in her hair and her cheeks stained with tears, he’s never felt so undeserving of a person in his life. She’s a lady, and he’s just a boy, he’s heartbreakingly inadequate.

“I just want to be someone you can be proud to call yours.”

With his eyes solemnly fixed on his lap, anywhere other than her reaction, he jumps slightly at her cold fingertips on his hand, prying them from the tightly curled fists he has no recollection of clenching and slipping her fingers into his.

“Draco, look at me.” She pleads softly. “Please.”

He does so slowly with her encouraging squeeze of his hand, she’s smiling at him, sympathetic, but unpatronizing.

“I am proud.” She states softly, but confidently. “I don’t want some perfect golden boy, I want you, Draco.”

Three words he never knew he needed from her, ‘I want you’, and they fill a space in his chest that was gaping for reassurance. She’s amazed him again as she always does, she has a talent for making him speechless than no one else has ever mastered.

“You’re so harsh on yourself you haven’t even realised how much you’ve grown, Draco.” She informs. “You’re not the bully you used to be, you’re not the carbon copy of your father anymore, and I’m sorry that no one has allowed you to move on from your past to see your present.”

She smiles sheepishly at his dumfounded expression and gives him the moment he needs to collect his thoughts and process it all. Then, slowly, he’s shaking his head in surprise, letting out a soft sigh.

“You’re too good to me.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” She jokes. “I think I straightened that misconception out already.”

“No but- you’re just so…”

The heat burning his cheeks is worse than ever before, he feels almost overwhelmed by it all, her compliments, her smile, that genuine look in her eyes that convinces him she’s unwaveringly sure of every word she’s said.

“Thank you.” He blurts finally. “Especially after I- well I ruined it all.”

“Yeah, I won’t lie, you really fucked up.” She admits. “But you’ve made an honest recovery…”

“Thank you for giving me a second chance.” He exhales gratefully. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“I was going to tell you to piss off after the ‘are you cold’ bit to be honest.” She chuckles. “Stayed because you gave me your scarf- which I’m stealing by the way.”

“Take it.” He urges, a smile finding his lips for what he’s sure is the first time in two weeks, since his misguided decision to end their almost-relationship. “Take whatever you want from me, it’s yours.”

She lets out a shaky breath and gulps. She purposely drops her gaze momentarily to his lips before retuning them to his eyes again, a gesture that has his eyes widening and the tips of his ears turning scarlet. Slipping her fingers from between his, she tentatively cups one of his cheeks, fingertips grazing the red colour blossoming on his pale skin.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I-“ He chokes. “Yes.”

She smiles nervously, reassuring him that he’s not the only one flustered. Then, curling her free hand around the lapel of his jacket, she pulls him closer with eyes shut. Their lips are cold when they meet, and slightly chapped by the cool air, but neither care. Draco places a hand on her waist, pulling her somehow closer as their lips begin to move hesitantly together. She lets out a soft content sigh, sending a breath of warm air into the kiss and causing him to positively melt inside. She’s done it again, completely incapacitated him with such a simple thing as a kiss.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” He exhales.

She lets out a giddy laugh as she pulls back, forehead still pressed to his and eyes still shut.

“There are worst ways to go than my lips.”

He knows, he’s very quickly decided that’s the only way he ever wants to go.  She presses her lips to his again for a split second before pulling back completely, he aches for the feeling again, greedy for it now that he’s felt it once.

“Next time, talk to me.” She pleads. “If you ever feel like you’re not good enough, I’ll be there to convince you otherwise, but don’t just disappear.”

“I won’t.” He assures. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know that, Draco.” She smiles sadly. “I just want you to know that you can talk to me.”

“I do.”

The hard part, that initial step, is over. He’s leapt into the unknown, flung himself into the terrifying depths of vulnerability, and there is no going back, but he never wants to, he never wants to leave her again.

“Also if I ever hear you speaking shit about our house again I swear to-“

She’s cut off by his lips once again on hers, startled only for a minute before she’s grinning, grateful to see his confidence returning. She can feel his own grin on her lips and the vibrations of a light laugh before he’s pulling back again.

“Consider me warned.”

“Good.” She exhales. “Or I’ll be confiscating your tie next.”

. 

(Authors note: its not my favourite but if i rewrote it one my time i was flinging my laptop out my window... its not particularly proofread.)

[where-theres-smoak-2]

What Was Aleksander Thinking? (The Runaway)

Ok so I am bored and I can’t sleep so obviously I decided to rewatch S&B again. And as it always does it got me thinking so I am thinking I might do a series of posts centred on various events that take place in the show and do a deep dive into what Aleks was thinking, what his thought process was during those events and how those thoughts influenced his actions. This post obviously being the first in the series and this time I want to focus on Alina running away and what Aleks’ thought process was when he was pursuing her. So obviously show spoilers here. Also as always this one got really really long.  

I’m going to start with the moment that he discovers she is missing. Obviously we know that he leaves because he has just received word that an assassin has made it into the LP and attacked Genya and Marie with Alina being the target of the attack. We can assume during the time he is away, and whilst Baghra is outing him to Alina, that Aleks was likely in the fitting room being filled in on what happened. So whilst away he would have learned that not only was there an attack but that Marie had died in that attack. I think we don’t think about how much this would have hurt Aleks. He built the LP as a safe haven for Grisha, its suppose to be the one place where they are truly safe, but now one of his grisha has died inside its walls. I feel like this would have made Aleks even angrier and maybe even guilty and like he failed in providing that haven he had promised himself at 13 he would make for the grisha. So naturally upon hearing that the assassin had actually killed a grisha his immediate response instead of going and speaking to The Conductor/ assassin is to check in on Alina. You can see how eager he is to see her as he comes into the room. When he doesn’t see her in the war room he doesn’t panic right away, instead he heads straight to the bedroom whilst calling her name and knocking in the most adorable way on the table as he goes. It is when he discovers that Alina isn’t there either that I think he begins to become worried. The next time we see him is when he is crossing the grounds and encounters his mother. The context of this scene though is important because the scene before it shows Jesper with the coaches and he quickly hides as soldiers go running by shouting ‘He’s over there!’ and ‘Quickly, get in there!’ Seeing as this scene follows right after Inej kills the Inferni, I actually think this was when they had just discovered the Inferni’s body. So when we see Aleks crossing through the grounds its likely that he has also just learnt that another one of his grisha has been killed which would indicate that the assassin wasn’t alone. So knowing this he is naturally very concerned about the fact that he can’t find Alina. We can see that he is very agitated, he is walking fast and looking around quickly, checking everywhere, his fists are clenched. Then he comes across his mother who can obviously see that he is searching for someone but she assumes he is looking for M*l. This is one of the things that makes me sure that Aleks really did care for Alina because at this point he is so focused on Alina that he has completely forgotten about the Stag, which seeing as the stag is the thing that will give him control over her powers if her powers were the only thing he cared about he wouldn’t have forgotten about it. Instead he has to ask his mother who she is talking about because the only thing he was thinking about in that moment was finding Alina and making sure she was safe. After his impassioned speech about Alina being the one that his mother interrupts with ‘but where is she’ I think Aleks begins to suspect that maybe his mother had something to do with the assassination attempt, maybe she helped them into the LP, she had just admitted to disposing of M*l after all. So he warns her and points out that she doesn’t matter anymore either. I kept wondering what he meant by this line and I think it might be because up until now I feel like Aleks stuck with his mother because she was the only other immortal and so despite them not really seeing eye to eye he knows without her he will well and truly be alone. But now there is Alina and she is immortal and so Aleks won’t have to be alone if he leaves Baghra. When he’s warning her I did notice that Baghra did look sad and hurt when he says that she doesn’t matter. He is basically telling her that she is disposable herself now, that he no longer needs her. Of course this conversation only agitates and worries him further. As he walks away you can see him clenching and unclenching his fists and to me it looked like he was trying really hard to keep calm and keep his emotions in check. As he is walking away Baghra calls after him ‘I reckon you’d need a skilled tracker to find her now, pity.’ Obviously she is mocking him here but this does tell him two things, one Alina is still alive and two she’s not in the LP anymore. 

 After his talk with his mother he goes to The Conductor to interrogate him, I do think part of the reason he goes straight there is because he wants to know whether his mother did help the crow crew kidnap Alina but also because he is desperate to find Alina as quickly as he can and so needs all the information he can get. At first when the interrogation starts Aleks is his usual calm and collected self. But Aleks is very smart and after centuries on this earth can read people very well and so he very quickly figures out that his prisoner is The Conductor by putting together the report from Nina and the fact that The Conductor says he crossed the fold with three others. Here we actually see Aleks become angry, The Conductor is clearly someone he already hated, he even loses his cool and shouts when talking about how The Conductor smuggles grisha out of his palace and helps them abandon the war effort. He manages to get his emotions back under control and again when he continues he appears calm, but his eyes betray his anger, however that venom he feels towards The Conductor comes through again when he questions whether The Conductor had something to do with Nina’s disappearance. At this point he knows this man has smuggled grisha out of the LP, has helped a crew planning to kidnap Alina into the LP, has tried to kill Alina. It doesn’t take much for him to put all the pieces together and figure out that he was also working with Zlatan. The look of absolute hatred and loathing on Aleks’ face when The Conductor admitted that he agreed to kill Alina for Zlatan for a million kruge was actually really chilling. This was the man who had tried to take Alina away from him, the woman who he had waited for, had longed and ached for over hundreds of years and he was going to take her away for something as materialistic as money. The moment he admitted to it The Conductor had signed his death warrant. But you know what? I also think he signed the death warrants of everyone in Novokribirsk too because I really do believe it was at this moment that Aleks decided to take drastic action to get rid of Zlatan and his rebel forces. This is what he means when he says to The Conductor ‘No. I think I’ll take care of that myself’ when he offers to get revenge on Zlatan for Aleks. As he is walking away The Conductor asks how he can help and Aleks replies that he already has, which is true, he had helped Aleks decide what to do with Zlatan, he had confirmed by not mentioning her that Baghra hadn’t helped kidnap Alina though in Aleks’ mind he thinks she clearly knew something about it considering she made that comment of where is she, he doesn’t know about his mother’s own plot to help Alina escape so he probably assumes his mother saw the crows take Alina, and he also now knows that it was in fact the crows that took Alina so he now has a target to pursue.   

So by this point Aleks has realised that Alina is missing and has now discovered who took her, so now its all systems go in searching for her. This is when Fedyor comes to give his report about Nina, but when he says he has a lead on ‘her’ Aleks thinks he means Alina and you can see for a moment that he is relieved, happy and hopeful. But then you can see his disappointment when he realises Fedyor is talking about Nina and he looks a little angry too which I think is the residual anger left over from The Conductor and from the fact that he has lost two of his grisha within the walls of the LP. When he tells Fedyor to go as far as he can and bring back any grisha he finds I think this is again because he wants to protect grisha and he wants them behind the walls of the LP so they can be protected but he also wants ‘one of theirs’ because the events of the night have clearly brought up alot of his anger at the grisha being hunted and killed and how that never seems to change, he is very much in this mindset of wanting to hurt anyone who has even so much as thought about hurting even one of his grisha, he wants vengeance and not just for them trying to hurt Alina but for trying to hurt grisha as a whole. So this means killing the Conductor, this means killing the crows, this means killing Zlatan and this means killing any Fjerdan/ Witch Hunter he can get his hands on. I really do think that Aleks was coming to a breaking point and I think the catalyst for that was losing Alina, he feels unbalanced and lost without her and as the time that he is away from her goes on he becomes more and more erratic and unhinged.    

The next scene we get is between Zoya and Aleks and he instructs her to assemble a team which includes David because they are going to be pursuing Alina’s ‘kidnappers’. Zoya is clearly confused about why David is going to come and Aleks answers that he’ll need him for what comes next obviously meaning after they find Alina and needing him for the stag amplifier. Now I’ve said this before but I really don’t think this is because he was already planning to force the collar on her and steal her powers. I actually think Aleks is thinking more along the lines of, I nearly lost Alina to an assassin and now she has been taken against her will to essentially be sold to some stranger across the fold, I need to get her back and then I need to make her as powerful as possible so that if there’s a next time that someone tries to harm her she’s even more powerful and even more capable of defending herself. If she has the stag amplifier then there’s even less chance that he will lose her and she will be even more his equal. Throughout this scene we can see that Aleks looks flustered and scattered, he’s moving from place to place, he’s picking up one map then looking at this piece of parchment. He’s very distracted and even when giving instructions to Zoya he barely even looks at her and is only half paying attention when she starts asking questions. When she then brings up the possibility that Alina was rescued and ran with the crows Aleks actually looks really irritated, he doesn’t even consider it as a possibility, his facial expressions is basically saying why are you bothering me with this nonsense I’ve got more important things to worry about like rescuing Alina. I mean it is very obvious at this point that he believes this is a rescue operation. Zoya keeps pushing saying that Alina didn’t fit in, that she was under alot of pressure and this is when Aleks snaps a little. He tells Zoya he knew exactly how Alina felt, that the King’s men treated him the same way. Zoya is clearly surprised at his outburst, this is someone who is usually very in control of themselves. You can also see on Aleks’ face that he realised he let out more information than he meant to, he’s surprised at himself. Then he sighs and shakes his head while sinking onto the bed, clearly hit by fatigue and tiredness and says he’s not feeling himself. It’s actually a rare moment of vulnerability, one that Zoya responds too by bringing up how he used to call on her. Aleks makes it pretty clear he’s not interested in talking about that with his very dismissive ‘Did I?’ Zoya doesn’t take the hint though and keeps pushing continuing to talk about how she used to help him relax clearly offering to help him ‘relax’ again. But Aleks just dismisses her again and says he’ll relax when he has Alina making it very clear to Zoya that whatever they had in the past is staying in the past. 

I do think that Aleks is grappling alot with his past in this episode. I think alot of things are reminding him of the past, The Conductor and Nina being taken by the Fjerdans is reminding him of all the suffering and prosecution he’s witnessed his people go through and how he was hunted by the old king, his conversation with his mother reminding him of his poor relationship with her and all the issues he had with her over the years, Zoya reminding him of how lonely he was and how he used to seek comfort through a casual fling with her just so he could get some human contact when he was feeling particularly stressed and of course Alina being missing reminding him of all the lovers he’s lost, in particular Luda. On top of that as I said before he’s feeling very unbalanced without Alina. His emotions are all over the place, he’s clearly still very worried and concerned for Alina, he’s feeling alot of anger at the crows, at his mother, he’s feeling the stress of trying to find Alina whilst also dealing with everything else that is going on like Nina also being missing. Basically Aleks is just not having a good time of it. So by the time he leads the hunt for the crows and comes across Kaz he’s already in a pretty foul mood. Also as a mentioned above he has alot of anger at the crows for taking Alina and killing grisha in the LP. When Kaz says that they don’t have Alina and that she fled on her own Aleks for a moment looks surprised he literally stops dead in his tracks. But he gets this look on his face and you can see he is trying to figure Kaz out and looks very suspicious and comes to the conclusion that Kaz must be lying. So again he insists on knowing where Alina is. But again Kaz says he doesn’t know, that it was obvious she didn’t want to be a captive anymore. You can see it starting to dawn on Aleks that Kaz may be telling the truth, him talking about how she didn’t want to be a captive anymore and Zoya earlier talking about how Alina didn’t fit in and was under alot of pressure and Aleks is starting to think maybe Alina felt trapped and ran by herself. You can see that he has tears in his eyes and is clearly very hurt at the idea that Alina left him willingly. He becomes angry and tries to kill Kaz. I said earlier that Aleks is very much on a hunt for anyone who he believes has wronged him or the grisha and the crows are very much on this list so naturally when Kaz escapes this only makes Aleks angrier. In those moments right after Kaz escapes Aleks is left alone with his thoughts and you can see him processing everything and to be honest the man looks completely destroyed. He’s clearly struggling alot with this new information that Alina ran on her own, that she didn’t want to be with him, that she chose to leave him. Now this bit is more my theory on what I think he might be thinking at this moment its not really based on anything just to me it would be a natural thought process. But I do think on his walk back to the carriage he would have been thinking it all over and coming up with a plan. So what is this new plan? Well I think Aleks would figure from what Kaz said about being a captive and everything Zoya said, that Alina is feeling trapped and is maybe getting overwhelmed by everything and so ran away scared. I mean when he does get back to where the carriage is supposed to be he actually seems alot calmer and I think this is because he believes now that yes Alina ran on her own but she only left because she just got overwhelmed about having so many lives to safe and once he finds her he can calm her down and reassure her and she’ll come home again. This is why he doesn’t seem bothered about chasing the crows, as much as he hates them and as much as he wants them dead, Alina is his priority and as he says she is on her own. Basically he is back in the mind set of she needs my help, she’s on her own and she’s scared, I’m going to find her and bring her home and keep her safe. 

Of course all that changes when he speaks to the guy Alina attacked. During the first part of the conversation Aleks seems happy and relieved, he knows Alina was there and now he knows that she headed into the woods. But then the guy makes the comment about her being a spy and talks about how a first army tracker was also looking for her. I think in this moment Aleks thinks he’s figured out what happened, but is obviously wrong. He thinks that his mother helped Mal rescue Alina and that Alina chose to run with Mal and the two of them are going after the stag together. Here’s why he thinks that, firstly he knows how Alina has strong feelings for M*l and vice versa. Secondly Alina made that comment in episode three asking if any grisha had escaped the LP, thirdly his mother told him that Mal was dead and yet not only is he alive but he is with Alina which looks really bad for Baghra, he probably thinks that Baghra convinced Alina to claim the stag for herself and then sent the two of them after it so that Aleks couldn’t get the stag’s power. He probably thinks this was a long term thought out plan that took place during Baghra's lessons with Alina that they were conspiring together. He might even think that the kisses he and Alina shared were actually Alina trying to get him to let down his guard and distract him. So he is now feeling angry, hurt, betrayed and used. Also from the way he says the line about orphan’s of keramzin reuniting he is also obviously jealous and to be honest I also think he’s heartbroken. I think it’s telling that when he informs his team that she’s in the woods and going after the stag he uses miss starkov, he does often interchange what name he uses for her depending on the situation and in this case I think he’s trying to distance himself from her again to go back to that formality. I believe this is the moment he decided that he was going to kill the stag himself and take Alina’s powers for himself. He has decided that he has been a fool and that he can’t trust her, that by letting her in he lost sight of his mission to protect the grisha and that’s led to him losing three of his grisha in the last 24 or so hours. He can’t risk the grisha’s future again so the only path he can follow now is to force Alina to help him by taking control of her powers. He’s not merely searching for her anymore, he’s hunting her.

When he does finally catch up with her alot of his thoughts are confirmed for him, she is with M*l, she is with the stag so in his mind he must have been right about it all, she did chose to run away with M*l and go after the stag herself because she is acting against him along with his mother. But as I’ve mentioned in previous posts I also think in this moment seeing Alina distressed over an injured M*l and desperate to save him and the stag he is thinking alot about Luda and how he was once in a similar position and I do think the protectiveness he feels for her and his desire to save her from going through the same experiences he did takes over. As angry at her as he is and as hurt as he is, he still cares deeply for Alina, he just doesn’t think he can trust her anymore because in his mind she betrayed him for M*l and now instead of them working together she is working against him. I think this is why he does have that conversation with her before he puts the collar on her about how there’s nothing more powerful than the two of them together and how they can do anything together. He wants her to be on his side again. But he doesn’t have all the information, he believes that his mother has said something to Alina to turn her against him but he doesn’t know exactly what she said. He gets little clues once he is reunited with Alina, he knows that Alina knows his name is fake, that she has told her about the stag, seeing as Alina also keeps asking about the fold he has probably guessed that Baghra told her about his plans to weaponize it. When talking to M*l he discovers that M*l knows he is the Black Heretic and likely assumes that Baghra told him. But it isn’t until he goes to talk to Alina that he realises the mistake he’s made, that Baghra actually told Alina that he is the Black Heretic and that is why she ran. As their conversation continues and Alina says that line about how they could have had this, they could have had it all, he realises that she didn’t run because she wanted to be with M*l, she didn’t kiss him because she wanted to distract him and bring his guard down. She ran because she found out he had created the fold. When she puts his hand on her collarbone and says ‘instead you made me this’ he realises just how big of a mistake he’s made and that he really has lost her now. By putting the collar on her he proved his mother right and so now Alina doesn’t trust him at all. He became the villain to her and he can’t take it back. So instead he commits to it and instead he focusses on his original mission of protect the grisha at all cost and he once again distances himself from her. 

Ok so that’s it for part one of ‘What Was Aleksander Thinking?’ I’m not sure how many of these I’m going to make or even what scene or event I am going to do next, but they are fun to do and it gives me a reason to keep rewatching scenes, so I will probably be posting another one fairly soon. If there are any scenes in particular anyone wants me to write about feel free to let me know.  

[crispyjenkins]

fic with ahsoka as Obi-Wans Padawan? Maybe some angsty jangobi? (Used to be together but broke up and now they pine from afar™️)

(i’m devastated that i don’t get to write ahsoka much, especially as obi’s padawan, so that an anon would come into my inbox.... and request jangobi on top of it..... seriously, though, thank you! can’t say i wasn’t inspired by @autumnchild22’s Kenobi Tano AU, but this doesn’t share almost anything with their take of events (ノ*´◡`) i’m flattered y’all thought i could do something of theirs justice lmao

i have written entirely too much backstory for this one, i think my brainstorming ended up longer than the actual fic so like. rip. 

support artists and writers by reblogging, message me for more info if this confuses you!)

  It surprises everyone except Obi-Wan that not only does Jango join the clones on the front lines, but he does so as the ARC troopers’ medic. That the son of the Mand’alor murdered by the Jedi would allow his kid to be apprenticed by a lifetime Council member is already hard enough for the galaxy at large to swallow; believing that the man who had at once been the most feared bounty hunter in the Outer Rim wouldn’t even ask for a command position? Impossible.

  Obi-Wan knows better. Just as Obi-Wan had picked up Soresu because he could not protect his master on Naboo, Jango had learned to put people back together because he could not save his buir on Korda 6. 

  Besides, Obi-Wan thinks Mace is a wonderful match for little Boba, even though he’s joining the Jedi older than even Anakin had been. Knowing Mace was among the Jedi to liberate the spice freighter Jango had been sold to, and that he had continued to check in on Jango for years after he got his armor back, Obi-Wan actually finds it rather silly that others on the Council had thought Jango would trust Boba to anyone else. 

  Which does leave Obi-Wan in quite the predicament, when less than a year after Anakin's knighting, Mace sends him a new padawan in the middle of a campaign. 

  Ahsoka smiles with all canines, and calls Anakin Skyguy, and has to be tricked into wearing more armor because, according to Cody, she is "not to take the General's lack of self-preservation as the status quo, nor as the basis for field safety." Which, rude, Obi-Wan wears plenty of armor when the situation calls for it; he simply doesn't find many situations where plasteel has kept his men or the Jedi from dying horribly.

  Letting Ahsoka gallivant around a battlefield in a tube-top without even a cloak, however, is out of the question, and Obi-Wan thinks Waxer does a brilliant job in sizing down the armor to fit their collective padawan over the next few months. Force, had Anakin really been younger than she when he first started taking him on missions?

  "Master?"

  Obi-Wan blinks, and smiles down at Ahsoka standing next to him, his apprentice looking quite dashing in the orange paint of the 212th. "Sorry, my dear, what were you saying?"

  She shrugs, eyeing him suspiciously. "'Was just asking if we would be working with the ARC troopers on Kiros; Captain Fordo said he would show me how to use a blaster rifle next time they were on the Negotiator."

  The Kaminoans intended for a few ARC troopers to be sent with each battalion, but it had quickly become clear that Jango had not trained them that way. Instead, he had raised and created a strike team so efficient, it would have been a waste to separate them; Obi-Wan knows Jango had hand-picked them from cadets, had searched for a spark in them that the Kaminoans hadn't already snuffed out completely. Jango had been like that once, too.

  "I would be surprised if we didn't," Obi-Wan decides on, turning back to observe the 212th loading into the Negotiator, and he would be, because the ARCs are often deployed with Obi-Wan’s men, have been since the Battle of Kamino. "But I have not heard anything from Master Shaak Ti, nor Captain Fordo as of yet."

  Ahsoka scrunches up her face into a pout, an amusing show of her age that she usually does not allow. "We'll probably get halfway through the mission and they'll just show up."

  Obi-Wan chuckles. “Hm, yes, probably,” he agrees, starting to make his way down to the hangar to join his men with Ahsoka trotting along behind, “but perhaps I can convince Captain Fordo not to surprise us too badly this time.”

-

  When the ARC troopers finally storm the Kadavo Processing Facility with Anakin and the Jedi on their heels, the warden Agruss is already dead.

  The sudden swell of Jedi presence is nearly blinding after a month of helplessness, but Obi-Wan can't tap out, not yet. Rex, satisfied and vindictive and relieved, sways dangerously and automatically reaches out to Obi-Wan to steady himself. 

  That Rex trusts him enough to not even think about rank before asking for help warms Obi-Wan in ways he doesn't yet have the words for — he wraps Rex's arm around his shoulders and takes half his weight happily.

  "Thank you," Obi-Wan finds himself murmuring as he helps Rex towards the doors, and only smiles at the captain's bemused expression. 

  "Whatever for, General?" he asks, even as he looks back over their shoulders across the room, to Agruss impaled to his chair with the electrostaff still sparking. Then he returns Obi-Wan’s smile, shaking his head. "That's not very Jedi-like of you, sir."

  "I'm afraid I haven't felt much a Jedi since Kiros, my dear." Which is perhaps too honest to allow himself before he's had a proper meal and a full night's rest, but if there is anyone who will understand, it is the man that lived it with him. "We could wait up here for Anakin to find us, but it will likely be a while before they can spare him to start looking; do you think you can keep your feet long enough for us to reach the ground floor?"

  Rex snorts and gives a vague wave of his free hand towards the elevators. "Well, I'm certainly not going to wait up here like some damsel, sir, and General Skywalker would kill me if I let you wander around on your own."

  "Well!" Obi-Wan laughs, for the first time in weeks, and hitches Rex up to get a better grip on his waist. "In that case, we really should not keep him waiting."

  They somehow time it perfectly for what the 187th and the 501st to have just finished rounding up the slavers in the courtyard when he and Rex hobble out of a side door of the warden's tower. Lieutenant Law oversees the Togrutas' move to Mace’s flagship Solace, and Obi-Wan easily picks him and Boba out from the crowd, standing at the base of the loading ramp and speaking with the Kiros colony's governor. Anakin is nowhere to be seen, but Obi-Wan doesn't get the chance to keep looking before Kix spots them from his place by the medical frigate; a shout passes over the nearby clones like a wave, until Kix and an ARC trooper break away to (gently) manhandle both him and Rex to the frigate. 

  The 187th's medic, Oro, is already on board seeing to the Togrutas too injured to wait for triage on the Solace, snapping a distracted salute that Obi-Wan quickly waves off as he helps heft Rex onto a hoverbed. He fully intends to duck back out and check in with Mace, though things seem well in hand without him, but the ARC with Kix takes off his helmet and glares, until Obi-Wan meekly shuffles to the next hoverbed over.

  He could never refuse Jango, after all. 

  "You repainted your armor," he says conversationally, as Jango pulls a scanner from the bandoleer around his chest and has Obi-Wan roll up his right sleeve. 

  "'Lost the last set to a sarlacc before our deployment to Kiros," Jango snorts, Concord Dawn accent stronger than any of his clones. "Though it looks like your mission had its fair share of excitement." Running the scanner over the electrical burns on Obi-Wan’s arm, Jango raises an eyebrow at the dried blood on the shoulder of his tunics; Obi-Wan honestly doesn't remember if it's his or not.

  And he can only smile at Jango, because even with a decade and a war between them, the corner of Jango's mouth still twitches when he's stressed. "Well, it certainly wasn't boring, my dear," Obi-Wan says, opening the neck of his tunic enough for Jango to stick him with a hypospray that hopefully won't make him too high. "And I can't say I'm looking forward to what is surely going to be a long dip in the bacta tank."

  He gets a laugh for that, and can't think of the last time they had done more than make eye contact from opposite sides of a ship. Perhaps it had been Kamino, when Taun We had first sent for the Jedi to meet the army created for them. 

  Obi-Wan had rather thought Jango dead until then, when he had disappeared from the galaxy abruptly as if he had never lived in it at all. For a time, Obi-Wan believed he had just gotten cold feet, that finally meeting Anakin made it all a little too personal too quickly, but then even Mace could not get a hold of him and no one had seen a Mandalorian bounty hunter in months.

  Their... conversation, Jango's stilted explanations of his absence and of how little he actually knew about the purpose for the clones he helped create, left far too much unsaid, but then Obi-Wan had been sent to Geonosis and, well. It's been nearly two years now, and Obi-Wan isn't sure if he's even seen Jango without his helmet since then. 

  His eyes flick over Obi-Wan’s face, the left side of his lips twitching as if knowing exactly what Obi-Wan is thinking — and he might not put it past him. 

  "Where are Anakin and Ahsoka?" Obi-Wan hears himself ask, when the silence grows heavy with those unsaid words. And he really would like to check in with his padawan, he can't imagine her last month has been a picnic either.

  Jango sticks him with another stim before answering, "Mace sent Skywalker to make sure no slave is missed, and no slaver isn't arrested. As for your new foundling..." That little smile comes back, as Jango nods out the back of the frigate to where someone is cutting a line through the clones guarding their new prisoners. 

  "Oh dear," Obi-Wan mumbles, barely having time to brace himself before Ahsoka is launching herself at him, and all he can think is how relieved he is to see her out of her slave disguise. Jango steps cleanly out of the way to let Ahsoka smother herself in Obi-Wan’s chest, though it doesn’t stop him from starting to prep bacta patches to tide him over until they can get to the Negotiator’s medbay.

  “Hello, little one,” Obi-Wan murmurs, carefully loosening the tight net of his shields for the first time since Zygerria and letting Ahsoka’s presence flood his mind. 

  “It’s good to see you, Master ‘Nobi,” she says into his tunics, and her voice does not waver at all.

  He manages a chuckle, though it does not hold nearly as well as Ahsoka’s, as he feels himself finally relax. Anakin, of course, senses the both of them immediately and prods at their minds, but neither Obi-Wan nor his padawan acknowledge him. “I take it the Queen is dead?”

  Ahsoka sighs and pulls back enough to nod. “Count Dooku was there, Skyguy barely got us all out.”

  “That was a week ago,” Jango adds, not looking up from the datapad he’s logging Obi-Wan’s injuries into. “Even with the Queen giving us the location of the Processing Facility, we had to wait for the 187th to catch up.”

  Running his palm from the top of her head down her hind lek, Ahsoka melts back against him with a Togruta churr he rarely has the pleasure of hearing from her. “Hm, and I imagine Boba was thrilled to work with the ARC troopers.”

  Jango snorts, because they both know Boba is thirteen and his rebellious stage where he wants nothing to do with his father for fear of losing his independence. “Originally, the 104th was the closest battalion, but were held up in their own campaign. ‘Honestly didn’t think we could keep Skywalker from rushing in anyways.”

  And Obi-Wan has to wince at that, because no matter what he does, he can’t seem to find a way to teach Anakin about attachment in words he understands; truthfully, Obi-Wan wouldn’t have had him knighted until he had at least attempted to master that part of his mind, but, well, the War had different opinions.

  “I’m actually just surprised he didn’t try to fight Dooku,” Ahsoka admits, finally releasing Obi-Wan only to hop up on the hoverbed next to him. Jango immediately pulls Obi-Wan’s bare arm back to himself to start slapping the bacta patches over the worst of his burns. “Master Windu had a talk with him, though, I think it was good for him.”

  “I’d like to see that!” Jango barks, only half sarcastically: he knows better than most, the sorts of things Mace Windu can talk someone out of, and if it worked for one ex-slave, why shouldn’t it work on another?

  Ah, perhaps that shared history should not have slipped Obi-Wan’s mind, not here with thousands of freed slaves needing aid for injuries Jango is intimately familiar with.

  “And are you alright?” he asks before he can talk himself out of it, as Jango is cutting his sleeve further back. His brow ticks back up, clearly bewildered by what Obi-Wan could be referring to, but it’s Ahsoka that leans around Obi-Wan to sniff triumphantly up at Jango.

  “I told you he still likes you,” she says, and Jango’s hand freezes on Obi-Wan’s wrist.

  Obi-Wan sighs. “Ahsoka.”

  But instead of denying that he might have actually had such a conversation with Obi-Wan’s padawan, Jango coughs on a laugh. “So you did, edee. To be fair, I did not think that was the issue.”

  Ahsoka rolls her eyes, leaning back into Obi-Wan’s side as he automatically raises his arm to accommodate her. “He thinks he lost his chance, Master ‘Nobi,” she tells him. “Even Cody thinks he’s full of banthashit.”

  Where Obi-Wan feels a little shell-shocked by the turn in conversation, Jango simply keeps that tiny smile — even if it looks bittersweet and self-deprecating now. “Your foundling has spent the last week talking me in circles about this, I almost think she’s as stubborn as you.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment, I think,” Obi-Wan returns, sarcasm an automatic, subconscious response. 

  “I wouldn’t need to talk you in circles if you two just talked to each other.”

  Shaking his head in bemusement, Obi-Wan gently fixes Ahsoka’s slika beads to lay properly around her montrals. “I’m afraid there’s quite a lot of history there, little one; most of which I’m sure Jango did not actually share with you.”

  She wrinkles her nose. “No, he refuses to tell me anything except that you met on a mission. And that he saved your ass from Jabba the Hutt.”

  Obi-Wan snaps his eyes to Jango, who looks absolutely anywhere but at him. “Is that how you remember it going, my dear?”

  “Could we do this later?”

  “Because if I recall correctly, and I do, this is not the first time you’ve lost your armor to a sarlacc.”

  Jango looks to the ceiling for patience. 

-

Mando'a: buir — “parent”, gender neutral  Mand’alor — “Sole ruler”, contended ruler of Mandalore. edee — “teeth”, “jaws”, used here as an affectionate name for Ahsoka. because she teeth.