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mcyt-imagines · 4 years ago

Note

hi hi ! first off, just a tip if you'd like more requests/asks in general you should prob turn on anon since this is like the only time i've sent a non-anon ask. but anyways, i'm assuming requests are open and i'd like to ask if you would write either just ranboo fluff in general or something like the tommy confession headcanons but w ranboo :D what you've posted so far is great <3

Thank you so much for letting me know! I thought I had anon turned on already, but it’s 100% turned on now! Regarding your request I got a little carried away and wrote both some general fluff and some confession headcanons for Ranboo so this post is a little long... Hope you enjoy! :D

(It’s important to note that these headcanons are a combination of ones pertaining to his Minecraft character in the dsmp and him outside of the dsmp roleplay!)

General Ranboo Fluff

- Dreamsmp Ranboo -

The first time Ranboo cries in front of you is when you confess to him and he is so happy and relieved that you reciprocate his feelings. He even smiles through the pain of his tears as you panic to cover the skin beneath his eyes, so your hands catch his tears to stop the pain.

Ranboo likes to ask if you need any resources from time to time and once you finally give in and answer, he spends the rest of his day trying to collect as much of it as he can. This has led to a few incidents in which you came back to your shared indent in the snowy mountain to find a chest stacked full with polished stone and countless ores. You’ve scolded him but the way he responds with big puppy dog eyes wishing to “just be helpful.” Sets the butterflies caged in your chest free every damn time.

Ranboo in addition to asking you for want you want he is also very observant in noticing what you need. Any tools close to breaking? Brilliant, he’s already got three more of the same tools ready for you to grab when you need it. He also names them using the anvil to some silly super cheesy pet names.

One of his favourite things to do with you is stargaze. You both travel to the top of your snowy mountain and clear out a space free of snow to lie down and simply hold each other. Ranboo has started asking Techno (on the nights you are away) to point out the stars and tell him their corresponding stories. He happily relays all of this information to you in exaggerated detail, looking at you in awe as your expressions change with the twinkling lights above.

Ranboo almost always carries a little umbrella around with him in case it begins to rain. Most of his friends notice and all start to buy him some. He now has a full collection that line his wall just next to the door. It’s those small things that allows him to remember who his real friends are.

Ranboo LOVES having his hair played with. He will fall asleep within minutes of you beginning to tousle his hair as he rests his head in your lap. He may make soft enderman noises, but you don’t dare tell him. Content on keeping that little secret to yourself.

Ranboo has to be kinda careful around snow considering that if it melts it will hurt him. Meaning he has to sit out on any snowball fights that occur. And they occur more frequently than you would think. It usually starts with Phil throwing a rogue snowball at Techno when Phil notices him slumping his shoulders. Which means it doesn’t take long until it’s a full-blown war. You usually find yourself smack bang in the middle of it and have to dive down to avoid getting pummelled in the crossfire. Ranboo will call you over to hide behind Techno’s house. As the onslaught continues between the two. you giggle and commentate over the fierce battle together.

- Outside of Dreamsmp Ranboo -

Ranboo enjoys watching you whenever you are focused on something. He’s incredibly observant and finds himself mimicking the small little nuances he sees you exhibit. He gets incredibly flustered whenever you notice that he’s picked up on them, but he doesn’t bother to deny it.

Ranboo finds himself staring at you a lot. He doesn’t mean to but he can’t help it. You catch him frequently, “Watching me real closely, hm?” He tries to stutter out an answer to defend himself, but you just smile and tell him it’s okay.

Ranboo finds a lot of comfort in doing ‘domestic’ activities with you. However, one of his personal favourites is when the two of you go out to get groceries together. His mum will give him a small list and he’ll try his best to dawdle around the store whilst swinging your intertwined hands to make the visit as long as possible. It makes him think of a future in which the two of you get to do this every single week and that alone warms his heart.

Ranboo always has to be near you, he doesn’t have to be physically touching you but he prefers to just be stupidly close to you. It always makes you laugh when he sits just close enough to you that you don’t touch, so now he has to do it forever.

Your laugh is one of his favourite sounds. To the point that if you giggle or laugh at something, he will just keep doing it over and over again for as long as you keep laughing at it. Which eventually leads to the both of you red-faced and gasping for air.

Ranboo is a terrible cook. But he tries so hard to follow recipes and they always flop. He also for some reason, cannot attempt cooking without making an utter mess of himself. Whether it’s spilling flour all over himself, getting egg yolk splatter somehow in his hair or just spilling copious amounts of milk on the floor so that he slips. This boy is a walking, talking kitchen DISASTER. So now he can only cook with you supervising him. Which turns out, wasn’t as much of a punishment as it should have been. As your tutelage seems to have slightly improved his cooking skills. However, now you also get flour spilt all over you as well.

Ranboo Confession Headcanons

- Realising he likes you -

Ranboo denies he has feelings for you at first. Believing that you’re just a good friend whose company he really enjoys. But the more he focuses on your friendship the quicker he realises he would prefer if you were more to him than that.

This thought alone sends him into a little bit of a spiral for a few days. Grappling with the thought of rejection and the guilt he would feel if he ever hurt you.

He spends most of the time grappling with his feelings he continues to try and act as normal as possible around you. You finding out would be his worst nightmare.

Ranboo realises he has absolutely no history in the dating department and desperately needs some guidance. He may ask Phil on a whim who would try his best to give the poor panicked boy some words of wisdom. Ranboo takes the advice to heart immediately, promising Phil he will update him on how his feelings for you turn out.

Ranboo finds himself writing about you in one of his many journals. He finds putting words on the page seems to help clear his mind. He tries to script his confession a few times. Desperately floundering to find the right words, but he always seems to fall short. He usually ends up scribbling all over those pages until you can barely tell someone had even written on them. Hoping to somehow erase the thoughts in the process.

He even tries drawing you a few times when he finds himself with enough spare time. He doesn’t think they’re any good though. Sure, the sketches look like you, but they don’t make him feel the way you do. When he looks at the page his chest doesn’t tighten because of your beauty, but instead because of the way you’ve made him feel. Which he comes to the sad conclusion is something he simply cannot capture in his words or his drawings. He has to show it through his actions. Not exactly his strong suit. But he’s determined to do right by you. So, he devises a plan.

- Confessing to you -

This boy plans the whole day down to a t, he has multiple back-up plans just in case his first one falls short.

Ranboo invites you over for lunch. Arriving at his place you notice how clean it is. He spent the last few days cleaning it top to bottom.

You spend a few minutes in the house chatting. You notice Ranboo is on edge almost immediately. Shoulders a pinch too tight, his smiles a little too wide and none of them reach his eyes.

You ask what you’re going to be having for lunch and he reveals a wicker basket from his kitchen. “A picnic!” Your heart warms, “I would’ve brought something if you’d told me beforehand.” He smiles at that, “Exactly. I even cooked without you, you should be proud.”

He shuffles on his feet a little, wishing to be praised, “We’ll see how the food tastes first, maybe then I’ll tell you how proud I am.” You tease, moving to elbow him lightly. You notice the way his face flushes as you move into his space. His mother appears from upstairs, “Are you two leaving? I could drive you, y’know!” “No thanks mom!!” He is quick to grab your hand and practically drag you out of the house and away from his all knowing mom.

The bus ride is on the longer side and you find yourself feeling brave enough to scoot a little closer to Ranboo. “Hey, is it okay if I?” You gesture between your head and his shoulder, the cute, shocked expression he sends you causes you to grin. “Uh s-sure!”

You softly press your head against his shoulder, “Thanks, pretty comfy shoulder you got here should’ve asked you to share it sooner.” You tease, nuzzling his shoulder lightly just for a reaction. And you get one alright, his skin goes such a lovely shade of red all the way up to the tips of his ears. You giggle softly, trying your best to hold it in and failing miserably.

You even manage to fall asleep despite your own heartbeat quickening at Ranboo’s closeness. You are tapped awake by him, “Hmm?” You rub one of your eyes knowingly appearing adorable and the way he looks at you makes it all worth it. “It’s our stop soon, we gotta get up.”

You nod and lazily stand and he follows suit. Only for the bus to brake abruptly, promptly shoving you into his chest. He wraps his arms around you quickly to steady you whilst you desperately cling to the wicker basket, “You okay?” You both mumble to each other before laughing it off and nodding. “Oh crap.” Ranboo grabs your free hand and you both scramble to get to the front of the bus to hop off. Sparks fly up your arm at the extended contact, even as you jump off the bus.

Ranboo happily leads you to a spot he had picked out earlier in the month. A soft patch of grass below a large willow tree that now sways softly in the warm breeze. You set up your carefully packaged feast with haste now that your stomachs are grumbling.

Ranboo forcefully tries to make himself relax knowing you’ve probably noticed his tense state by now. But you choose not to push him on it, taking an educated guess on why he’s so stressed.

You are quick to compliment his cooking skills when he divvies out a freshly baked quiche. Even though you know his mom for sure did most of the work. It’s the thought that counts. You hope that may snap him out of the stupor he seems to be in. However, no such luck.

“Hey Ranboo, do you want to talk about something?” Ranboo goes into full panic mode. He did not have a plan for you asking something like this. He thought you weren’t confrontational!! You watch as his expression changes rapidly. You look away, “You don’t have to tell me, it’s okay. I just thought you might want to-“

He takes one of your hands in his. Why is he doing this??? This isn’t part of the plan at all! “I…” His throat goes dry. All those hours obsessing over what he was going to say to you are sent out the window when he finally meets your eyes.

“I think I like you.” He hasn’t realised he’s even said it until its waaaaaay too late. Your eyes widen, you didn’t think he’d actually admit it to you. You squeeze his hand as you watch his eyes seem to lose focus, “I like you too.” He is silent for several long moments until he starts blinking rapidly, “Huh!?” The look of utter surprise on his face causes you to burst out laughing.

“Wait, wait, wait you’re serious?” He grabs your arm as a grin slowly starts to creep onto his face. “Sure am.” And as you meet his gaze you realise that his grin actually reached his eyes, for the first time in a long while.

“So, you gonna kiss me now or what?” You tease as his face shines a dark red. “W-well I, uh-“ His stuttering only allows for you to sneak closer and press a firm kiss to his cheek. Somehow, he grows even redder and you sigh pleasantly. “My heart definitely made the right choice with you Ranboo.”

Meanwhile Ranboo is too busy freaking out over the fact that you weren’t even meant to find out he liked you until you were stargazing together later tonight. His plans are utterly ruined! But as you squeeze his hand again to bring his thoughts back into the present, he wonders that perhaps spontaneity isn’t such a bad thing sometimes.

~My ask box is always open if you’ve got any requests or just want to vent about the dreamsmp lore!~

#mcyt #ranboo #x reader #ranboo x reader #fluff headcanons #mcyt x reader #confession headcanons #mcyt imagines #mcyt headcanons

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val-aquenta · 3 years ago

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I’m on fire posting these fics. They have mostly been languishing in my drafts, so I really just have to spruce them up a tad to post them ahahah.

Here on ao3

Qui-Gon is the first to call him Ben. Obi-Wan is a name that is too long for him to yell, so he is nicknamed Ben. At least, that’s what he said. Obi-Wan thinks otherwise, obviously.

“Why Ben? What’s wrong with Obi-Wan?” He wonders, not noticing he’s said it out loud until he hears Qui-Gon chuckle. “What?” He flushes, affronted by the cheeky grin on his Master’s face. It is a look that screams trouble.

“A little long, Obi-Wan, huh?” Qui-Gon pauses for a moment from where he is preparing for flight. “Not exactly perfect for yelling when I need your attention.”

Obi-Wan puffs up a bit, not dissimilar to a loth cat Qui-Gon notes with amusement. “Obi-Wan is a good name.” The boy defiantly tries not to pout while saying this. “It’s not like I call you… John.” He mutters softly, voice sounding put off.

“John?” The older man’s wrinkles crease around his eyes as he smiles. He shrugs. “Ben is a good name regardless.” He defends.

“Obi-Wan’s better.” He opposes tetchily, eyebrows furrowing. “What’s so special about Ben anyways?” He asks with curiosity, always eager for new information.

“Well, Ben technically means son of my right hand, a phrase from my homeworld’s main religion.” Qui-Gon murmurs, willing to try and satisfy Obi-Wan’s need for answers. “The religion is… complex. I don’t even understand it completely, but I do understand the meaning of the phrase.” He pauses.

“Well… what’s the meaning of the phrase?” Obi-Wan fiddles with his hands, eyes alight with interest. He flushes self-consciously when Qui-Gon lifts his eyebrows as though proving a point. He ducks his head, a hint of red on his cheeks.

“Well, in the religion, there is an entity called God. And the phrase to be at the right hand refers to being in a space of special honour, the right hand, of God.” He explains, enjoying the way Obi-Wan seems to brighten with the new information. “Being the son of the right hand should mean that you will grow into this space of importance. Rather fitting, don’t you think?”

“Oh…” Obi-Wan flushes, freckles disappearing into the deep red colour. Qui-Gon swears the tips of the boy’s ears are red. “That is kind of you to say, Master.”

“It is the truth, my Padawan.” Qui-Gon smiles, clapping a large hand on his shoulder and tugging the boy in for a hug. Obi-Wan startles, tensing for a couple of seconds until he relaxes, shorter arms just barely managing to reach around Qui-Gon.

::::

Satine was the next to call him Ben. You see, Bant never truly latched onto the name that Qui-Gon christened him with, preferring to stick to her shortened form, Obi. Therefore, Satine is the next. She hears it once when they’re getting shot at and Qui-Gon has a plan that has an 80% chance of ending up with all three of them dead, but it’s better than their current odds. Qui-Gon yells it at him to get the boy to pay attention.

At first, Satine is startled, thinking a new ally has joined them but is surprised that it’s just a nickname for Obi-Wan. Granted, she doesn’t call him Ben for that long because she, like Bant, prefers to call him Obi.

She does call him Ben when they’re parting ways, and Obi-Wan’s chest aches something fierce. Qui-Gon watches, eyes somewhat sympathetic as they follow Obi-Wan. He pretends not to notice as they share one small, sweet, innocent kiss. It’s everything Obi-Wan wants, but he hesitates and glances back at his Master, and then pulls away from the embrace, head bowed. It is almost everything he wants, and that makes all the difference. If he stayed, he would abandon his Master and his family in the Temple. More than that, he would abandon his path as a Jedi. Even Satine, for all he cares about her, is not enough to sway him from his path. The Force whispers in his mind, sorrow and apologetic, thankful for his sacrifice. The choice cements and he lets go of Satine.

“Ben…” Satine whispers, the word almost lost in the wind. “I… good luck.” Her blonde hair, carefully arranged on her head, moves as she bows. “Thank you, Master Jedi, for your protection.” Obi-Wan bows back, though his head remains tilted down, not willing to look at the woman.

“It was our pleasure,” Qui-Gon responds, sending a little pang of comfort down the growing bond with his Padawan.

“Do be careful.” She says, deviating from her formal script. “Farewell, Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi.” The names fall easily onto her tongue as though she hadn’t spent almost a year calling them something else with much more familiarity.

“May the force be with you, Duchess Kryze,” Obi-Wan murmurs, and he walks away from Satine, from the comfort of that life, and into the Jedi transport, his Master, a steady and strong pillar in the Force, ahead of him.

“… Ben?”

“Yes, Master.” Qui-Gon looks as though he wants to say something, wants to spill some secret, but he thinks better of it, instead closing his mouth and opening his arms, catching Obi-Wan as he falls into them.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs into the pale ear, his hand stroking circles into Obi-Wan’s shoulders. The boy, because that’s what he is, does not respond, only tightening his grip and inhaling the comforting scent of his Master.

::::

Mace is the third Jedi off the transport ship. He is also the third to call Obi-Wan Ben, though that happened a while back on a joint undercover mission with Qui-Gon. He reverted to calling him Obi-Wan, but then he reverts once more. He’s older and wiser, and, has been a friend ever since Obi-Wan was a small young child of the creche.

“Obi-Wa… Ben.” Obi-Wan’s heart cracks just a bit more. Never again will he hear that familiar voice whispering that name to him. The deep baritone voice rumbling it. It hurts worse than leaving Satine, Cerasi, or Siri, or losing Reeft had. “Sit down with me and let’s talk.”

“Yes, Master Windu.” The response is immediate, drilled into him with years of training.

“Tell me how you feel, Ben.” Mace rumbles, voice not as deep as Qui-Gon’s, but very close. Obi-Wan is certain that if he were to press his ear to the bald Jedi’s chest, he would feel the voice vibrating.

“Fine…” That response is nailed into him out of fear. Fear of not being good enough.

“Really?” Mace murmurs disbelievingly, leaning forwards and taking in the red-tinged eyes. A hand reaches out and takes one of Obi-Wan’s hands, feeling the slight chill that seems to emanate from him. “You don’t look fine to me.” He says in a frank manner that only he can pull off without sounding overly rude.

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Obi-Wan responds, more exasperated than he thought it was going to sound.

“Ben… you’re not wrong to be sad. It isn’t wrong to feel loss or to grieve.” Mace says, voice closer to whispering than to speaking. The man scoots closer to Obi-Wan who, in the eyes of the Republic is also a man but, in reality, still feels like the thirteen-year-old being sent to Bandomeer, or the sixteen-year-old who left Satine, or the- “You’ve just lost a man who has been by your side for twelve years. It will hurt.” Obi-Wan laughs, but it is more cracked and painful than any laugh Mace has heard. He desperately scrubbing at his eyes as though he wishes to scour them away.

“I know it hurts, Master. Force, my chest feels as though I was the one who was run through with a lightsaber, not Qu-” His voice breaks around the name, and he devolves into small sobs. Mace observes the boy being thrust into Knighthood with something close to helplessness. He had lost Cyslin in a less brutal manner and yet it had hurt all the same. All Mace can do is offer some comfort to the man. “There’s a hole where he was and I can’t-” Obi-Wan's voice cuts off as he cradles his head in his hands.

“Ben,” Mace says it curtly, as though fully taking advantage of how short it is. Qui-Gon dragged it out a bit, seemingly relishing the way the name made his mouth shape. Satine’s lips always made the name sound sweet. Short and filled with emotions. “Observe and release your emotions.”

“I can’t,” Obi-Wan admits. He tries to look at his emotions. He can understand, but he can’t release and make them go away. There’s just too much. He says as much to Mace.

“Let me help, Ben.” And it is as though Obi-Wan is a youngling once more, trailing behind Padawan Windu in cream coloured corridors. As though they’ve been transported to a time when Mace’s forehead did not have the stressed wrinkles it does now. As though Obi-Wan hasn’t just had a piece of his heart carved out with a sith lightsaber. Together they sink into meditation, aware of each other, and acknowledging one another. With a little flick from Mace, Obi-Wan begins to reveal his mind warped by guilt and self-loathing and anger and pain and… it’s too much, Mace admits to himself. So, he starts small. A small statement, I was too slow, is given to him, and they watch it together, understand it together, and accept it together. Then, he moves to another, unwanted. And to the dozens that remain. Mace does not judge, and his heart aches at the knowledge of the burdens Obi-Wan is thrusting upon himself, but he says nothing about it, only reaching for the boy… man after their meditation and bringing him into a hug that lasts a full minute.

::::

Cody is a really good researcher. Sure, he’s great with a blaster, and hand to hand combat, and anything to do with the military really. He was trained under Jango Fett and the Kaminoans. But, one of his greatest strengths is his efficient diving into the Holonet. He can splice information from different databases, even the Jedi Temple’s database. Technically, he could just go to the Archives and find the information, but he could be seen there, so he doesn’t. Instead, he sits at the main console of his barracks and begins to get information regarding his new General. The Jedi, Kenobi, seems nice enough, but looks can be deceiving. In this case, however, it seems that they’re not. The little ginger seems to have a kind streak about the size of Ryloth.

“What in the world…” He mutters as browsers pop up. Multiple mission reports that he skims through to reveal another thing. Apparently, the General has a penchant for injuries. A really bad one if the reports are not a joke. He digs through one that was co-written by one Qui-Gon Jinn, and he spots some errors. At least, he’s sure they are errors because he’s pretty sure the General’s called Obi-Wan… not Ben. However, he doubts that the General would let that slide.

“Ben.” He forms the name under breath, making some multi-syllable word from it. “Ben.” He says it curtly. It is more efficient than to say General Kenobi or, Force forbid, Obi-Wan. The Jedi have the oddest names.

“Commander…” He jumps, turning to look at the man in question as he walks into the barracks completely unannounced. “I was, ah, wondering if you would like-” He squints at the console’s screen. Cody flushes deeper than before, the crimson stain spreading around his neck and up to his ears. Caught researching his General by the General in question. Rex will never let it go.

“General Kenobi, sir.” He plants his feet and straightens his back. Obi-Wan looks at the report and then at Cody and then back to the report.

“Did you… hack into the Temple?” He questions curiously.

“Well… I do have the access codes…” He trails off.

“Is this… the mission to Joonta?” The General strokes his beard, leaning forwards to read his report. “Force, my diction was horrible back then. So was Qui-Gon’s.” He scrolls down.

“Sir…”

“Yes, Cody.” He seems oddly enthralled by the report, scrolling rather quickly through the pages.

“Is your name Ben?”

“Sometimes.” Obi-Wan… Ben? Hums. Reading through the report absently. Noticing the silent prompting from Cody, the General shakes himself a bit. “Oh. It’s a nickname given by my Master. Almost no one uses it.”

“Ah.”

“Cody… you can call me Ben if you’d like. I don’t mind.” He stops the frantic scrolling to look at Cody.

“The vod will better understand if I call you General Kenobi, sir,” Cody says while ticking the name onto the General’s name. General Obi-Wan ‘Ben’ Kenobi. Jedi and their names.

“If that is your wish.” Obi-Wan smiles. “Now, I came here to offer you tea in my quarters. Would you like to come?”

::::

Ahsoka’s always heard of the famous Master Kenobi or Padawan Kenobi or Knight Kenobi in pairs. Padawan Kenobi was always paired with Master Jinn, Knight Kenobi was paired with Padawan Skywalker, and Master Kenobi is paired with Knight Skywalker. Knight Skywalker is now obviously paired with Padawan Tano, so they're all connected. Contrary to what Anakin would think, Padawan Kenobi is the term she’s much more familiar with, and therefore is more familiar with the pairing of Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi. Even though she knows so much about Anakin and Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are within all the stories that the Crechemasters say. She knows of the most interesting missions that the duo took and is somewhat embarrassed to admit the amount of hero-worship she has for the two.

“Master Obi-Wan, is it true that you had to drink pirates under the table to rescue Master Jinn?” She asks out of the blue one day, noticing the way Anakin’s hand tightens ever-so-slightly, blue eyes dashing to Obi-Wan’s pinched expression. She’s new to her apprenticeship and she still feels overwhelmed if she thinks too hard about the fact that she’s the Padawan of The Anakin Skywalker, and is part of the famous lineage.

“… Yes. Where did you hear that, Ahsoka?” He frowns while stroking his beard, a habit he can’t seem to break. He doesn’t look too annoyed by the question. Instead, he looks amused and rather curious.

“Ages ago, Master, in the creche.” Obi-Wan shrugs and continues, waving off Anakin’s worried words. The smile on his face is nice to see. Ahsoka thinks it looks bad when the Frown is in place, and that is all that has been in place since the invasion of Ryloth began. She’s happy that she could coax a smile out of the typically austere looking man.

A few months later while they’re travelling through hyperspace on Obi-Wan’s ship, Ahsoka blurts another question. Obi-Wan had offered to teach Ahsoka some jar’kai during the hyperspace travel, and Anakin had assented, remaining on his ship while Ahsoka trained with her other Master. “Master Obi-Wan, is it true that you once were eaten by a large squid and then spat out?” She asks at the mess hall. Cody, who was rather peacefully eating his meal thank you very much, chokes on the ration’s he was chowing on. Stitches, the medic, appears to have swallowed water down the wrong pipe and is sending a concerned look at Obi-Wan. The man in question deflates, shrugs, and answers quietly.

“Yes, Ahsoka. On Fuleya. Master Jinn thought I was dead for two minutes. Nearly screamed his throat raw trying to cut me from the beast's stomach.” He shrugs and then proceeds to tap on his datapad as though the clones in the immediate vicinity aren’t looking as though they’re having heart attacks. They’re very… protective of their General sometimes. Ahsoka shrugs as well, turning back to her meal. “Was this also heard in the creche?” He asks with the very amused glint in his eyes. The smile also seems to brighten his face.

Ahsoka feels a warmth in her stomach at having brought another smile to the man’s face, especially considering the stress he seems to be under with the war. “Yes. I heard lots about you.” He shakes his head fondly. She thinks that the smile on his face is worth the possibility that the clones might wrap him in blankets and lock him on the ship. Not that that would be a bad idea thinking about it…

“Master Obi-Wan,” She starts, her head tilted in wonder. This time, they’re alone. They are at the Temple, in Obi-Wan’s living room, sharing some tea. Anakin, ever the disliker of tea, had opted out, likely going off to see Padmè. “Is it true that your second name is Ben?” At this, Obi-Wan chokes on his tea, spraying the liquid around the room as he coughs.

Ahsoka startles, putting her own cup down and scooting closer to offer some assistance. “What?” He asks weakly, bringing a hand to his chest. This has been the most intense reaction so far. She rubs her hand softly on his back. Humans are ever so slightly warmer than togruta, and she delights in feeling the warmth through his Jedi robes.

“Barriss told me that Master Unduli told her that Master Windu told her that your second name is Ben.” Ahsoka chatters, looking curiously at the man who lies on the couch.

“Technically, Ben is not my second name. I don’t have one.” Obi-Wan runs a weary hand down his face. “Ben is a nickname given to me by my Master.”

Ahsoka perks up. “Oh, really? Like I’m ‘Snips’ to Anakin?” She questions, excited to learn more of the rather mysterious Master.

“Well, I suppose? Ben probably has more thought put into it than Snips.” He smirks playfully.

“How so?” At this Obi-Wan flinches. Ahsoka casts him another worried look but he waves it off.

“It’s a name meaning that I‘ll be special, essentially. It’s native to Qui-Gon’s homeworld.” He smiles softly at Ahsoka. “Much better than ‘Don’t get snippy with me.’” She laughs, happy to once more bring another smile to his face.

“Maybe.” She concedes. “I like Snips though.” Obi-Wan lifts an amused brow.

“I like Ben too.” They smile at each other.

::::

Luke never knows Obi-Wan as Obi-Wan. The thing is, Obi-Wan is dead before Luke is even born. In his place, Ben Kenobi is there. He knows the rough and weathered hand of Ben, not the smooth hand of Obi-Wan. He listens to the voice of Ben, not Obi-Wan. Because of that, there is no need for Luke to call Ben anything but Ben.

“Ben… why are you called Ben?” He asks one day. Owen is feeling in a more forgiving mood and Beru probably took pity on the sad old man, and they have allowed Ben to visit for a bit.

“The same reason you’re called Luke. I was named Ben.” He responds with a slight smile.

“Your Mom named you Ben?” Luke asks head tilted in curiosity much like another youngling tilted her head while asking about the name Ben. He wonders where the young togruta is, or even whether she’s still alive.

“No. My… father named me Ben." He swears that there is the gentle hum of laughter in the deep rumbling voice of his Master floating through the air. He looks around, but just the typical homestead surrounds him.

“Oh. That’s cool.” And that’s that. The boy runs away to the deeper parts of the house, a smile on his face. In his hands, a soft blue blanket flies in the wind.

::::

Vader knows who Obi-Wan Kenobi is. He is the man who took everything from him. He took his unborn child, his wife, his limbs, and his potential. Vader is sure that most of his problems stem from this Obi-Wan. Vader, however, does not know who Ben Kenobi is. You see, Anakin never knew Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan together long enough to know of the nickname. He wasn’t there as Qui-Gon whispered the name softly before his death. He never listened to Master Windu sigh his name as the two were chatting as they walked the halls. He never listened to the now-dead Duchess whispering nicknames into the ear of his former Master. He never listened to Cody jokingly calling the ginger, Ben. He never noticed how Ahsoka would whisper to Master Ben sometimes. Because of this, he misses the Jedi Master in his hiding spot.

“Darth Vader. Have you found your former Master as I asked?” Sidious sits on his throne of lies and steeples his fingers, wretched features obscured by his long, dark robe.

“No, my Lord.” The man bows stiffly at the waist, metal limbs not allowing anything truly graceful. “Kenobi is elusive, but he is old. Soon, he will be dead.”

Unknown to the two, Ben Kenobi, not Obi-Wan because that man died alongside the thousands of Jedi in the Purge, watches as a boy, the son of his fallen brother, plays in the sand, a toy spaceship in hand. Ben sits on the tip of a dune, smiling at the happiness the boy unknowingly projects as he wooshes the ship around above him. Ben’s hands are busy, carving a new ship for the child. He plans to make a Nubian for the boy.

“Ben!” The boy shouts across the desert, waving his hand. “Hello!” Ben smiles, and waves his hand in a silent greeting before he stands, joints creaking as he does, and turns back to his hut. Another day and the boy is safe. Cocooned in the silence of Tatooine, Ben takes comfort in the setting suns.

“Ben.” He hears the wind whisper, joining the deep baritone of Qui-Gon, the dulcet tones of Satine, the curt voice of Mace, the kind voice of Cody, and the young voice of Ahsoka. Luke’s toddler voice adds itself to the litany of voices, and Ben grins, watching the ever-changing dunes. Today was a good day. Seeing Luke usually makes his day, and this is one of those instances. A visit from his Master would do him good, he thinks. Soon, he will be too old for the lessons that the man has planned, but he plans to enjoy them while they last. Ben walks into the dunes, towards his hut. He might only have the ghost of one of the people who called him Ben, but he carries the other four close to his heart, carefully adding one more to that collection. The newest addition has a clear voice that is destined to deepen as he ages.

“How was your day, Padawan?” Qui-Gon is standing in front of the hut, serene as he was in life. Perhaps even more so.

Obi-Wan smiles wryly, feeling at peace for one of the first times in a while, “Quite nice, Master.”

Qui-Gon smiles indulgently, pleased that Obi-Wan still finds some joy in his life, “That is comforting to hear, Ben.”

#fanfic #star wars fanfic #duna writes #obi wan kenobi #mace windu #qui gon jinn #satine kryze #The slightest hint of obitine #obitine #Ahsoka Tano #commander cody #anakin skywalker

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dragonsareourfuture · 4 years ago

Text

Reunion — Parent!L/Parent!GN!Reader

We finally got some L into the mix! This is honestly less focused on you and L’s relationship and more so on the family dynamic between all the other characters and you guys, plus your daughter! Everything’s pretty chill, no mentions of the Kira case, no angst. Just...happy. (Also, just wanted to mention that there are some jabs at people who stream for a living in this but that’s just Roger being a dick your job is valid no matter what <3)

(DN) = Daughter’s Name :)

WHERE? WHERE IS MY NIECE?”

“Jesus, Misa! Be careful!”

As soon as these voices were heard, Roger was sure that all peace and quiet for the day would be cast out the window. Even so, he put on a cheerful smile and exited the kitchen to greet yours and L’s bittersweet friends who had just begun removing their shoes to place in the neat shoe rack in the foyer.

“Ah, Light Yagami and Misa Amane, glad you could make it,” Roger began.

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you. I apologize for the short notice, but L had mentioned that it was his daughter’s birthday and we just had to attend,” Light explained with a faux, closed-eyed grin as he lifted a bag decorated like a birthday present for further explanation.

Roger nodded curtly and took the present from Light, holding out a hand to direct the couple towards the kitchen where the festivities were to be held for that evening.

Misa perked up again when she laid eyes upon the infant being bounced on your knee, giggling absentmindedly.

“There she is!” The enthusiastic blond squealed, practically shoving her boyfriend of three years out of the way to kneel in front of the babbling child like she was a god.

You giggled at her antics and let her squish your baby’s cheeks between her fingers. “Hi, Misa. It’s been a while.”

“I know! It has, hasn’t it?” Misa cooed, words directed at you but using the high pitched voice one uses to speak to a child nonetheless.

Light ambled into the kitchen hesitantly, eyeing L, who was standing over you as you sat on a stool at the counter, his hand on your shoulder while the other one resided in his pocket. Light nodded politely, his features stiff and his shoulders tense as if waiting for L to provoke him at any second. L easily picked up on Light’s careful movements and squared his shoulders, correcting his posture a bit though his dull expression never changed. Luckily, the tension was snapped when the front door opened once again and two college-age kids stepped into the cool interior of the fairly large home.

L seemed to relax more now that more people he was comfortable with began filing into the space. The pair in question — a lazily dressed brunet adorned with a cigarette and orange-tinted goggles as well as a leather clad blond with scar tissue occupying the left side of his face and arm — came through the threshold and packed themselves into the already tight-fitting kitchen, bickering with each other all the while.

“Matt, just put it over there.”

“No, I wanna give it to her now!”

“Be patient, asshat!”

“Hey, no language like that in front of the baby!”

You snapped your fingers to get the boys’ attention and gestured for them to just hand you their present already. Matt happily stepped forward and handed you a crudely wrapped gift. Not to mention, they had used crumpled newspaper and a length of thread to tie the gift together. Matt shot you a sheepish smile and admitted, “We couldn’t afford wrapping paper...”

“Aw, guys, this is more than enough! Thank you.” You glanced down at your daughter and allowed her tiny yet strong fingers to curl around your own. “Can you say ‘thank you’, (DN)?”

The little girl bouncing on your knee gazed up, recited gibberish at the two boys and stuck out her slimy tongue, drool slipping from the corner of her mouth.

“You’re welcome, little one.” The brunet patted the girl’s head and (DN) grabbed at his wrist. He let her tug his hand down and stare at his fingers in awe, even if her hands were covered in baby saliva.

Mello let out a subtle chuckle and pulled out one of the stools lined up at the counter in order to sit next to you. He gestured to the elegantly wrapped present and smirked, “Matt picked it out.”

Matt was too busy to hear this admission as he was wiggling his fingers in front of (DN)’s face, causing uncontrollable giggles to burst from her toothless mouth.

You puzzled at the gift for a moment before consulting L, who merely shrugged. You figured he of all people would know what the pair was capable of considering he had lived with them for a good amount of time, but he came up empty. Before you got a chance to open the gift, however, Roger piped up with a question for Matt.

“So, Matt, how’s your job been?”

Matt paused and stared blankly at the man who used to house him, caught off guard by the question, opening and closing his mouth like a beached fish. “Uh...fine. It’s been—”

“He’s been doing great.” Mello chimed in, glaring daggers at the man.

“Oh, that’s good to hear. Tell me, what is it you do, again?” Roger continued. Mello shifted his glance to Matt, an expectant and impatient expression laced onto his narrow features as if they had rehearsed this very conversation back at their apartment and had to follow a script.

“I’m a gaming streamer.” Matt choked and Mello could barely help but throw his head into his hands. “It’s a real job.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is, son.” The older man seemed to find triumph in the outcome of this conversation and retreated to the living room before the victory was taken from him.

“Nice one, man.”

“I’m sorry, okay!?”

“Hey, Matt, there’s no shame in doing what you love.” You offered kindly.

“It would help if it payed the bills...” Mello mumbled, to which you sent a harsh kick to his shin.

The lot of you were unable to hear the door open and close thanks to Mello’s yelp of pain and Matt’s howls of laughter, and as quiet as Near was it wasn’t a surprise to have him suddenly appear out of nowhere.

“There you are, Near! How’ve you been?” You greeted cheerily, hoping to make up for the white haired boy’s lack of enthusiasm.

The pajama wearing boy merely hummed and crouched down in front of your child, being able to since Misa was long gone, huddling up next to Light and chatting animatedly with Gevanni, who had escorted Near to the party. The baby bopped Near’s fluffy head with the flat of her palm. He didn’t seem to mind, though.

As Roger carried in the cake it was difficult to refrain from laughing as L’s eyelids practically disappeared, leaving most of the whites of his eyes visible. The light from the birthday candles flickered in his irises. It appeared that he was in some sort of trance. When the cake was set down on the countertop you turned so that your daughter was facing the treat, placing a gentle yet firm hand on L’s shoulder as he twitched as if he would lunge for the cake.

“Should we start singing then-?”

“No!” Chirped your daughter as she slapped a hand down into the icing, leaving a tiny handprint that claimed her piece of the marble cake.

Laughter was heard around the room and Roger shrugged as he began cutting everyone pieces of cake.

Once everyone was finished and (DN) was sufficiently covered in crumbs and icing, you all shifted to the living room to start opening presents.

As your little girl pawed are the first gift, a collective gasp echoed through the room when the front door all but burst open. The metal knob most likely dented the wall as it slammed. Roger winced, nothing on his mind but the time he’d spend on repairs.

“I’M HERE!” Matsuda announced with a boisterous laugh, delighted to see that the party was still in full swing. However, his ear to ear grin didn’t last long as he noticed everyone’s surprised and confused faces staring back at him.

“Did you invite him?” L whispered in your direction.

“Um...no I don’t think so.” You replied, putting a smile on your face nonetheless. You stood, handing your daughter over to L as she waved the half opened gift in his face to which he smiled lightly. “Hey, Matsuda! You’re just in time for presents!” You hugged him tightly around his waist, attempting to make up for how terrible you felt for not inviting him yet also curious how he got here if neither you or L had mentioned the occasion to him.

“Oh, good! I was sure I missed everything! I felt terrible! Oh, here.” Matsuda passed you a colorful, neatly wrapped package adorned with a festive silver bow. Your stomach dropped even further with guilt as you realized how much time he put into the gift. “Light told me about (DN)’s second birthday and I couldn’t miss it!”

You couldn’t help your lips from stretching into a wide smile when you looked back up at the usually forgetful and clumsy man. “Come on, wouldn’t want you to miss out,” you said, taking him by the hand and leading him to sit with everyone else.

“Alright, now just open our present already!” Matt exclaimed, practically bouncing up and down on the couch cushion. You laughed, not remembering the last time you saw him this excited. You assisted your daughter in getting the rest of the “wrapping paper” off of the gift inside. It was a case, almost like a DVD case but smaller, and as you flipped it around you could read “Call of Duty” on the cover.

“Call of Duty!” Matt shouted, throwing his fists in the air.

“As I already told you, I did not pick that out,” Mello defended.

“But now me and (DN) can play it together! Right, (DN)?”

Your little girl clapped enthusiastically at Matt’s offer.

“Great. Thanks, Matt.” L took the game from the still cheering girl on your lap and put it to the side.

After the rest of the presents were opened and wrapping paper littered the floor, people began to say their goodbyes. All of Wammy’s boys opted to stay and help clean up, sharing a beer afterwards. Well, more like Mello and Matt shared a beer. L helped himself to the leftover cake that had been set aside to be packed up into Tupperware. Near sat on the floor next to the counter, playing with (daughters name) and unboxing all of the new toys she had received from earlier.

“Oh, shit. Matt, we should get going soon. It’s getting dark and I gotta be up by five.”

“Since when have you been so business oriented?” You questioned with a smirk, referring to Mello’s new job at the chocolate shop. It wasn’t much and he knew that, but it was pretty much the only thing he was qualified for after spending the entirety of his high school years in the mafia.

“Since I was almost fired the other day.”

At the mention of this unfortunate event, Matt had to stifle a laugh as he elaborated, “Turns out businesses don’t like it when you take most of the merchandise home with you.”

“I swear, Jeevas, get in the fucking car.”

“Language!” Matt reminded with a devilish smile.

You swore Matt could have dropped dead with the glare Mello was sending his way. The brunet relented and gave you a goodbye hug once you stood from your perch on the stool. He then bent down and swiped (DN) from the floor.

“Hey,” Near began to protest.

“Oh, shut it, you fucking sheep.”

Matt covered the little girl’s ears and looked at the blond like he should know better. Mello rolled his eyes as tiny hands batted at the feathers adorning the collar of his floor length coat. “Hello.” He said plainly.

“Aw, c’mon, Mello! Hold her!” Matt insisted, holding the child out to the reluctant blond.

“I don’t wanna get spit all over me, thanks.”

“Think fast!” Matt literally threw your child into Mello’s arms, leaving him no choice other than to catch her from mid air.

“Don’t do that!” You scolded, leaning against L (who had just arrived by your side) out of pure relief that Mello possessed decent reflexes. Crumbs fell into your hair from the corners of L’s mouth as he wiped them clean, appearing to not be phased by your child taking a little flight.

L then stepped forward when he noticed the blond struggling with how to hold the infant, thrown off by her ever-moving limbs and intense gaze. Your poor postured husband adjusted the girl in his younger counterpart’s grasp so that he balanced her on his hip, arm supporting her bottom. He looked more nervous rather than disgusted.

“There you go.” L lightly patted Mello’s back, as if silently telling him that he was doing well.

“Yeah...this is fine...”

Near stood from the floor and shifted his gaze over to you, eyes soft and pleading. “May I hold her?”

“Really? Off to steal my thunder, are you?”

“You looked uncomfortable.”

“I’m always uncomfortable. It’s part of being me!” Your baby was then shielded from Near by Mello’s protective, feathery shoulder which (DN) had begun to chew on.

“Mihael, why don’t you let Near have a turn?” The blond boy tensed at the sound of his real name but, once he seemed to remember it was only coming from you, he thrust (DN) into Near’s chest, waiting for him to wrap his arms securely around her.

Matt twirled the car keys around his index finger. “C’mon, like you said it’s getting dark.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mello gave you a quick one armed hug, doing the same for L and heading out the door without even acknowledging Roger who was clearing up the now empty cake tray. “See ya.”

Gevanni made you nearly jump out of your skin as he appeared out of thin air to consult Near, who still rocked the baby in his arms, on what time he should start up the limousine.

“Now that I think about it, we should let our friends rest. It was lovely to see you three.” The white haired boy politely parted ways with you, climbing into the limousine and waving through the tinted window. (DN) flopped her tiny hand around in an uncoordinated wave. It was barely noticeable, but Near allowed a smile to pull at the corners of his lips as Gevanni drove away and out of sight.

You sighed, curling your fingers around L’s hand. “That was fun, seeing all of them again.”

“Yes, it was. We should do that more often.”

“We should actually invite Matsuda next time instead of waiting for him to show up. I enjoy his company.”

“If you say so.”

You slapped L’s shoulder with the back of your hand.

“Meanie.”

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thero0ks · 4 years ago

Text

My Most Treasured Items

Reiner receives a letter from someone in his past.

No happy ending, just angst.

Season Four spoilers

Trigger Warnings: Detailed description of death/corpses, brief discussion of childhood abuse

The detour had never been in the battle plan. Hanji and Levi would probably be pissed if they knew she’d taken an alternate route. She had studied the map for weeks to know the layout of the city, so that this detour would only add a couple seconds to her time. That’s why she took off a few moments earlier than everyone else. Her feet landed in the alleyway. Peeking her head out to check the Main Street she found it was empty. Rushing to the lone mailbox she pulled out the crisp white envelope. Having taken great care to avoid any wrinkles in the delicate paper she gave the envelope a soft kiss before placing it in the mailbox.

Four years later she would be able to speak her peace. Her shoulders relaxed. A weight lifting off her as she took off in the air once more to rendezvous with the rest of the squad.

* **

They sat around the table discussing Zeke’s betrayal. Reiner proposed an immediate counter attack. They left the meeting agreeing to think on the matter.

Entering his own barracks he found a letter placed on his bedside table. The flowing script pulled at something in his memory. Amber eyes flickered over to the name of the sender and his heart stopped. Y/N L/N.

His legs gave way as he sat on the edge of the bed tearing open the letter. Another Devil from his past had come back to haunt him.

To my beloved Reiner,

What would I do if I had 13 years to live? I’ve thought about the question for four years now, and I still don’t have an answer. By my calculations you only have a year, maybe two left?

I know your love for me was forced, and I truly apologize for the turmoil I caused you. A devil like me is hard to love for someone like you. The bitter truth that you were always enough for me, but I was only another sin that stained your hands is a hard thing to bear. I guess I have a knack for loving the wrong people. Perhaps that’s my punishment for the sins of my ancestors? Isn’t that what you Marleyans say?

You said a lot of things four years ago, but I didn’t get to say a word. I just watched you leave, and dealt with the aftermath of all my friends dying. For the record, I never wanted any of this. I think all this death is senseless, and I meant what I always said that this world could use more love.

I guess this world doesn’t have a place for dreamers.

I wanted to hate you for choosing them over us, but I realize that’s your home. It's easy to hate something you hold no attachment to. Loyalty is a strong trait, and it’s something I wanted to curse you for. I looked at you leaving me as a betrayal, but how can you betray something or someone you were never loyal to in the first place?

I guess that’s what I’m trying to say. I forgive you for not choosing me, but I also ask that you forgive me for not choosing you anymore either. There is not a decision either one of us could change that would have put us on a different path. For both of our sakes I wish to allow you a glimpse into my dreams.

I choose to believe in a world where we made all the right choices. One where we ended up together, happy, and surrounded by all our fallen comrades.

Maybe you have no desire to see me in that way. Perhaps every stolen moment we had was nothing more then something you did to pass the time. I want to believe the man you showed me exists, because everything I showed you was real.

Even after four years I cannot hate you. I hope your heart softens when you think of me too.

With love,

Y/N L/N

A tear splashed on the cream colored paper. Reiner’s hand moved to his cheek trying to recall the moment his eyes leaked water. His heart ached at her words.

Every time he recounted his time on Paradis to other Marleyans internally he always ended the statement with “except her.” Never had he said it aloud, but never had he lumped her in with the rest of them.

He remembered the night when she finally opened up about herself. Growing up in poverty, her abusive father, and the inner turmoil she felt about loving the man that abused her. He’d been so angry when she recounted the abuse to him, and the confusion he felt when she expressed empathy for the monster.

Gripping the letter he realized he had been a different monster to her. Wasn’t that his goal? Make the Devils of Paradis suffer? Then why did he want to beg for forgiveness at her feet for the sins he committed against her?

Running his hand through his hair he straightened the letter. Rereading it, hoping for poisoned words to jump out of the page. He deserved every verbal lashing she could bestow upon him, but he knew they would never come.

He wanted to write back to her. Tell her there wasn’t a moment he regretted leaving her on that island to rot. How her heartbroken look still haunted his dreams. Mostly he just wanted to assure her that he too wanted desperately to believe that in some alternative universe they would be together forever.

Here he was encouraging a full scale attack on the island. “Forgive me for not choosing you anymore either.” The hope of a relationship between the two had been crushed with that statement, but love still lingered in their hearts.

She was exactly what he needed. His bed felt cold without her. He still had issues going to bed alone, because she wasn’t there to coax into bed. Knowing her soft heart would melt if he told her he couldn’t sleep without her.

It was such a strange thing that someone so small was friends with the dark. She often told him she found peace when darkness coated the earth. Perhaps that’s what made it easy for him to fall asleep in her arms. He’d tried to tell her he was a monster, but she’d always kiss his forehead, and assure him that he was a good man, and that she would love him no matter what.

A knock on the door pulled Reiner out of his thoughts. “What is it?”

Porco poked his head through the door, “we have all the Devils bodies. Magath wants you to take a look,” Porco said, gripping the door knob. “See if anybody essential to their military is among them.”

Reiner sighed, folding the letter up and tucking it away before following Porco down to the yard where the bodies were being kept. The gate guards gave them a nod of acknowledgment as they passed.

Several rows of bodies were laid out and Reiner inspected each. They were all new faces. The attack on Paradis they launched four years ago had wiped out the scout regiment.

Reaching the last row he caught sight of a female corpse. The (dark/light) hair looked familiar. His feet seemed to echo off the pavement. Stopping in front of the body he took her in. Her soft curves had grown cold and stiff. Several bullet holes littered her body, and her neck was twisted in an odd angle. Bile rose in Reiner’s throat as he took in the soft cheeks, and her eyes that once held so much warmth were nothing but an empty abyss devoid of life. The color now dull the light long gone out.

Tears streamed down his face as shaking hands reached out to her. Nothing felt like her as he touched her cold skin. He hadn’t felt the sting of pavement as he fell on his knees to grip her hand and brush the hair from her face.

Porco remained silent. Taking in Reiner’s actions. Porco couldn’t find it in his heart to judge the man for falling in love with a devil. Especially when he had watched the woman die.

“I should have taken you back to Marley.” Reiner babbled, amber eyes fixed in the past.

“Reiner, she chose to attack Marley,” Porco tried to reason.

The large man rounded on him. “You know nothing about her,” he seethed. “She never wanted any of this.” Running his fingers through his hair. “All she wanted was to find something more out there than hell she was living in.”

“You can’t blame her death on yourself.” Porco reasoned.

“She would never have come here if it was not for me,” Reiner stated, as he removed a leather pouch that was strapped to her thigh. A bitter laugh escaped his lips as he pulled a small stone out.

* ** “Hey L/N!” Reiner said tossing the small stone at her.

A squeak escaped her lips as she lifted her hands to block her face. The stone making an audible thud against her ribs. “You didn’t even try to catch it,” Reiner said, picking the stone back up.

“Well I’m sorry, I grew up with an older brother who would have just pelted me with the rock,” she huffed. “It was a natural reaction to go into defense mode.”

Reiner let out a laugh at the thought of an elder L/N terrorizing her. “It’s a lucky rock,” he said offering the rock to her. He held the perfectly round stone between his index finger and thumb and her fingers brushed against his to pluck it out of his grasp.

“What makes it lucky?” she inquired. Curious eyes flickered up to catch his gaze.

He simply shrugged, “it’s perfectly round. That’s gotta be lucky.”

His answer seemed to satisfy her. “If I make it through our next mission without dying I’ll believe it’s lucky,” she said tucking the stone away in her leather pouch she kept secured to her thigh.

“What’s in your pouch?” Reiner asked, his head tilted as his gaze focused on her legs.

“My most treasured items,” she said with a shrug. “Tell you what Braun if I die before you, you can have my pouch and whatever is in it.”

Reiner ruffled her hair. “You’re not going to die as long as I’m by your side.”

* **

“The only time she wasn’t suffering was when I was lying to her,” Reiner murmured, the guilt washing over him at the sin he most regretted. The luck in the stone had finally faded Reiner thought numbly, or maybe it was the belief in the luck that died.

Perhaps he should be honored that a piece of him was counted among her most treasured possessions. A black and white photograph was the next thing he pulled out. It was a portrait, and Y/N was dressed in Marley’s finest. Joy seemed to be radiating from her face. Reiner’s guilt seemed to lessen. It was possible she had found a way to move on in her daily life.

The next thing he pulled out was a love letter. Reading through it he was surprised to find a small hand drawn portrait enclosed. The letter and portrait signed by Jean Kirstein. By the letter it was a different kind of love. It was the kind of love made for slow mornings, and gentle hearts. It was built for smooth sailing, but was never meant to survive the storms that life threw. Perhaps she knew that, and cherished the safety Jean had brought her for the period of their relationship.

The fact was that Reiner’s relationship with her had been built to weather storms, but he had set sail without her, so she was left to weather the waves without a life preserver. Somehow she’d clawed her way to the shore to try and rebuild what he had taken.

The last thing he pulled out was a small leather journal. Flipping through the pages he found some entries dated to cadet training, and her last entry was the night she died.

“Magath is going to want to read that journal,” Porco stated. Breaking the silence that he had given Reiner to go through her belongings.

Reiner tucked the items back into the satchel. “Can you give me the night to read through it?” Reiner’s downcast eyes took her corpse in one last time.

Porco nodded, “yeah just give it to Magath tomorrow.” Porco gave Reiner’s shoulder an awkward squeeze before leaving him.

Reiner tried to figure out how to say goodbye to the last thing in the past he cared about. The soldier was officially gone, and the only thing that remained was the warrior. All he wanted was more time. His thirteen years were almost up, his best friend and the love of his life didn’t have as much time. Perhaps they would be waiting for him. All he wanted was to see their smiles at the end of all of this. He was tired of fighting, and he was tired of being alone. “We’ll be together again soon,” he vowed, closing the door on death one more time.

#reiner x reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun #reiner braun x y/n #reiner braun x you

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skzleeknow12 · 3 years ago

Text

Love Conquers All - Hyunjin

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Idol au, Set at MAMA

Word Count: Approximately 4k

“So my next question will go to Cindy,” the presenter said and Cindy immediately froze as the camera panned to her. She looked at her members, who were giving her worried looks, and her leader subtly asked her with her eyes if she wanted her to help. Cindy pressed a strained smile onto her face and subtly shook her head before trying to relax her smile more as she looked at the presenter. Her group was currently being interviewed at the red carpet at their fourth MAMA of their professional career. She took the mic hesitantly handed to her by one of her members, who smiled at her as a source of comfort.

“Cindy, I understand you were meant to have a collaboration this year with Hwanwoong of Oneus and San of Ateez which was supposed to be a highly anticipated part of today’s show? What are your thoughts on not being able to do it?”

Cindy knew the presenters has a script to follow and she could see the guilt in the presenter’s eyes so she simply smiled at her as if to tell her it was ok. What made things worse was that when she looked towards the backstage, she saw all of eight of the boys standing there, looking at her with worry, but his face stuck out the most. She knew it wasn’t his fault, but she was the one who had to pay the price for the both of them. She needed to show she was strong so she brought the mic towards her mouth so that she could speak clearly.

“Obviously, I was looking really forward to the collaboration, I don’t know if this information was shared with the public or not but we had already started to rehearse it and were quite a way through it, so it was a bit frustrating when it was cancelled due to specific reasons.” She made sure her voice didn’t waver as she looked at the fans of many other groups behind the camera. Her eyes suddenly caught a certain fan who was waving a large banner with the writing “WE LOVE YOU CINDY!” and that gave her the strength to continue. “I understand that everything happens for a reason though, so I’m sure that the reason the collaboration was called off was the best thing for myself and the other parties. The time that would have been spent in practice gave me a chance to reflect on myself and improve more as well as think back on everything to ensure I don’t make any mistakes in the future.”

“Ah yes of course, at least there was a positive outcome,” the second presenter said, but her eyes were still glued to Cindy which she took as another question about to be thrown her way. “You also wrote one of the songs that your group will be performing today, would you like to tell us about what inspired you to write it and your train of thoughts?”

“The song I wrote, to be honest I related it to myself quite a lot,” she said. “I’ve been misunderstood a lot; when you’re in the public eye, you don’t get a chance to explain yourself, one wrong move that may be made with a pure intention could cost you your mental health as well as your career. The song is basically talking about how no one knows what we’re going through unless they actually go through it the way we have to. I know a lot of people know what I mean when I say life as an idol isn’t always rainbows and sparkles, but unless you actually live this life, then you can’t imagine the hardships it takes to even stand here. We’re humans too, so I guess I was just trying to portray how not everything is as it seems.” She let out a small laugh which the presenters mirrored in order to lighten the mood, but her members and the eight boys on the side could tell how forced and bitter it was.

“But there are obviously fulfilling moments?” the presenter asked, trying to stir the conversation back to a lighter topic. Cindy was aware their group had probably gone overtime by a minute so they had to wrap the interview up to move onto the next group.

“Yes of course, our fans and the members are the most rewarding part,” Cindy said and she smiled with the other members as she heard a loud chorus of screams of delight from their fans.

The interview ended quickly after that and the girls made their way off the red carpet, but obviously fate was not being good to her today. As Cindy walked off the stage, she heard a voice call out to her from the crowd.

“CINDY YOU B****!” a fan cursed, causing her and her members to stop in their tracks, shocked. “FIRST YOU DATE OUR HYUNJIN FOR FAME, AND THEN YOU USE HWANWOONG AND SAN TO MAKE YOURSELF LOOK BETTER. YOU’RE SO DESPERATE. WE HATE YOU!” The words didn’t hurt as much as the noises of agreement coming from the audience, and the angry protests and comforting cheers of her fans did not help drown them out. She turned to look at the eight boys, one of them particularly who looked as if someone had just slapped his face. He noticed how her facial expressions showed how she was trying to stop herself from crying and he wanted nothing more than to just engulf her in a hug and tell her it would all be alright. Cindy’s leader quickly ushered her off the stage as her members followed, and they were glad to see their seniors as well as close friends, Oneus, waiting for them at the end, out of sight of the cameras. The members gave her encouraging smiles as Hwanwoong gave her a brotherly hug. Xion and Keonhee immediately came to her and put their arms around her, quickly engaging her in a conversation sure to make her laugh, whilst her members and the rest of the Oneus members talked quietly about what had just happened. Whilst they were walking away, they heard the presenters call the next group onto the stage.

“Please give a warm welcome to… Stray Kids!”

(Time Skip)

The stage erupted into flames as BTS’ Fire started playing and that sent the crowd into a frenzy of screams, not to mention how all the other idols, who were meant to look professional and show minimum reaction, jumped out of their seats as the performers on stage got into formation. Cindy and her members were no exception and she, along with her other member, started energetically dancing, living up to their positions as main and lead dancer. The Oneus members next to them were singing the lyrics loudly and if any outsider came in they would have thought they were at a concert instead of an award show. Cindy happened to turn to her left and was immediately surprised and freaked out when she saw Hyunjin’s eyes trained on her, and it looked so extremely obvious. She panicked and looked around when her heart stopped. Right in the front row of where the fans were seated, she saw a camera pointed towards them, catching the whole interaction. She just felt so overwhelmed at that point that she tapped her leader and told her she was going out for some fresh air. They knew they couldn’t just leave halfway through but her leader saw how troubled she looked so she helped sneak her backstage. This did not go unnoticed by the Stray Kids members and Hyunjin quickly turned to Bangchan to ask him for permission to leave. Noticing Bangchan’s hesitance, Minho patted Hyunjin’s back, as if telling him to go. Hyunjin smiled gratefully before disappearing backstage, not knowing about the camera still recording him, the one that had caused Cindy to leave so suddenly.

Hyunjin walked down the corridor of dressing rooms, ignoring the looks of surprise the staff members were giving him, all of then wondering why he was backstage and not in the idol sitting area. He finally reached Cindy’s groups dressing room, just as her manager walked out. She was evidently surprised as she quickly pulled him away from the door to the room and took him behind the vending machine, out of sight.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she hissed in fear as she looked around.

“Please let me talk to her, I’ve not heard from her since Dispatch outed our relationship,” Hyunjin pleaded. Cindy’s manager had been one of the first to find out about their relationship, other than his manager. The members and the company as well as the rest of the staff ended up finding out only a few days later than the two managers.

“Hyunjin, please understand,” her manager said desperately, “I know you both love each other, even someone as inexperienced as me can see that. But you need to be prepared that maybe you won’t be able to go back to how you were. Think about the reputation of your groups too. And think about her. That stunt at the red carpet today didn’t help her at all, especially because it only targeted her.”

“I need her to know I still love her; I’m willing to go through the hardships for her.” He looked at her manager desperately and she sighed in defeat as she patted his shoulder lightly.

“Don’t take too long, you need to get back,” she said sternly and he nodded his head. He thanked her with a hug before quickly rushing towards his initial destination. He paused a bit before he opened the door, slowly peaking his head in. the sight in front of him broke his heart. Cindy was sitting on the floor against the wall and her cheeks were tearstained, but she was no longer crying. She hadn’t realised the door had opened and her hands were playing with an unopened bottle of water. Hyunjin stepped in and lightly cleared his throat, and that’s when she looked up. Her eyes widened so fast that if they had been in a different situation it would have looked comical. She stood up and the bottle of water dropped from her hands, rolling around on the floor without a care in the world. Time stopped as the two stared at each other, none of them knowing what to say. There were so many unspoken words between them, yet the speech Hyunjin had prepared in his head completely vanished. He decided to make the first move and he stepped a bit closer to her, checking to see if was uncomfortable. She didn’t show any signs of discomfort, so he carried on walking towards her until all she had to do was lift her hand and he would be within her reach.

Cindy’s tears cascaded down her face, soft sniffles following them. She hesitated for a second before slowly closing the distance as she walked into his embrace, crying against his chest. Hyunjin paused for only a split second before holding onto her tightly as if scared that she would be ripped away from him, whilst running his fingers through her hair. He kissed the top of her head as her cries turned to small hiccups. She gripped onto his shirt tightly before slowly pulling away, eyes filled with fear.

“You need to go,” she said and Hyunjin’s heart broke as he watched her take a step away from him, “our groups will get ruined-” She was about to continue rambling on when Hyunjin captured her lips in his, muffling any more words coming out of her mouth. His hands were loose around her waist and his eyes shut as he moulded his lips against hers, but after a few seconds he noticed she wasn’t kissing him back. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he looked at her teary eyes, and she took that as an opportunity to push him away harshly.

“What’s wrong?” he started but she immediately cut him off.

“What are you doing?” she asked as her eyes darted around the room fearfully, and it dawned on Hyunjin just how scared she was. “Hyunjin, we can’t-”

“But why can’t we?” he asked exasperatedly looking as if he too was going to break down into tears. “What’s so wrong with us being together if it makes us happy? Why can’t people just accept that you’re the only one for me and I can’t live without you in my life?” His words made her feel so heartbroken because she knew he was right, and she knew that she couldn’t live without him either. But there was no way they would be able to avoid the hate they would get from both fandoms collectively, not to mention how it could have a huge toll on their groups considering how well they were doing at the moment.

“Hyunjin, you were fine before we dated,” she said gently but he shook his head firmly.

“But I always knew that something was missing from my life,” he said as he took her hand in his, slightly smiling as he felt hers tighten around his, “when you came into my life, I knew that you were the one. You were the one who completed me, and no one but you can take that space in my heart. Please.” He closed his eyes as he felt the tears run down his cheek. He suddenly felt something soft against his skin and when he opened his eyes once more, he saw her wiping his tears away with her thumb. She held onto his cheek and he melted into her touch, but the moment was short-lived as she took her hand away.

“Hyunjin, I… I think we should officially break up.” Her tone was soft and she was no longer crying, but Hyunjin could hear how she strained her voice as she tried to keep it steady, and he noticed how it faded out at the end as she breathed deeply.

“You… you don’t mean that,” he said brokenly as he tried to read her face, but she maintained her expression, keeping it emotionless.

“As hard as it is for us,” she whispered, “this is the only way to keep everyone off our backs, and to save our careers. We have our groups to think of, we can’t be selfish.”

“But what if I want to be selfish for once?” Hyunjin burst out and Cindy looked at him, surprised. When the two had started dating, they had agreed that they would work their relationship around their schedules so as not to mess anything up for their groups. He was probably one of the most selfless people she had ever met. To hear him say that he wanted to be selfish for once, for her, made her heart leap despite her dejected mood.

“What if I want to become selfish, for us?” he asked again and she looked at the ground, trying to avoid his gaze. He sighed deeply and she knew he was trying to hold his tears back for the umpteenth time. “But if that’s not what you really want, then… then I’ll let you go.” Cindy looked up at him and he bit his lip, swallowing the lump in his throat. “But only on one condition.” Cindy’s heart was tearing apart as she looked at him, waiting for him to speak again. She couldn’t believe that they were ending everything, even though none of them wanted to.

“And that condition is?” she asked, sniffling slightly.

“Look me straight in the eye. And tell me that… you no longer love me.” His words struck her hard and for a second all she could do was blink at him.

“W-what?” she whispered.

“Tell me that you don’t love me anymore, and that that’s the reason you want to end us,” he said, his voice wavering a bit. “If you do that, then I’ll believe you, but if you don’t, then I know that you still want me just as I want you. And if you still love me like I love you, then we will get through all the hardships together, and I’ll always fight for you no matter what.” If Cindy hadn’t been such an emotional wreck at that point then she would have rolled her eyes at how hard he made the decision. On one side was her love for Hyunjin, and on the other was the harsh industry.

She looked him in the eye and her heart tore apart as she saw the hope vanish from his eyes. Taking a shaky breath, she opened her mouth to speak.

“Hyunjin, I…” she tried to get the words out, but it was harder to lie when the person she loved more than anyone was looking at her as if his whole world had ended. “I… oh, screw it!”

Before Hyunjin could even react, Cindy grabbed his face with both of her hands and smashed her lips onto his, surprising him. He stood still for a moment before quickly snaking his arms around her waist and bringing her impossibly nearer to him. The kiss somehow made their hearts flutter yet thump loudly at the same time. Cindy could feel the butterflies in her stomach as Hyunjin gently tilted her head back, deepening the kiss with his soft lips. The kiss was desperate, yet slow and meaningful, passionate but not too steamy. The two finally broke apart, panting a little from the lack of air. They closed their eyes, savouring the feeling of being in each other’s embrace. Hyunjin kissed her temple as she hummed softly, before sharing a heart-warming smile.

“Well, I did not think that was how you would answer my question,” Hyunjin said teasingly as Cindy lightly slapped him on the arm. But then she realised a big problem.

“Hyunjin, this will be so bad for our groups-” she tried to explain but was cut off by a voice at the door.

“Don’t worry about us,” Chan said as he walked forward with Cindy’s groups leader, “what matters is that the two of you are okay. Thankfully, none of us have to deal with a depressed Hyunjin anymore!” Hyunjin scowled at Chan playfully as they all laughed.

“Cindy wasn’t any better,” her leader said, smiling fondly at the couple in front of her, “but I’m glad you two are back together now. And don’t worry about the antis, haters are gonna hate, we already knew we would get backlash for these kind of things when we first became trainees.”

“Exactly,” Chan agreed, “as long as you two are happy, no one has any right to say anything to you. Besides, you have all of us with you. And our true fans will accept your happiness.”

“But, um, I think we should get your guys’ makeup done again, you both look like a mess,” her leader said and Hyunjin grabbed onto Cindy as the girl was about to playfully throw herself at her leader for her comment. Chan and Cindy’s leader gave the couple equally motivating smiles and told them to come straight back to the seating area after their makeup was done. Hyunjin’s stylist came into the room along with Cindy’s and they busily started reapplying the makeup onto the two idols, not fussed about them ruining it as they too were happy the couple were back together again. Throughout their makeup reapplication, Cindy and Hyunjin held each other’s hands, sitting in a comfortable silence while the two stylists chatted to each other.

As they got closer to the seating area, Cindy suddenly remembered what had caused her to go running off.

“Hyunjin, we were being filmed,” she whispered to him as they stood outside the entrance. He turned to look at her and for a second he looked panicked before he showed her his signature smirk.

“Good, now we can give them something more to film,” he said as he held her hand. Her eyes widened but after looking at Hyunjin’s reassuring smile, she felt most of her nerves slip away. The two walked in and Cindy was glad to see that Oneus were just about to perform; she didn’t want to miss their stage. As they made their way to their seats, the other idols stood up to bow respectfully as they were all colleagues, and the looks on their faces when they saw the couples entwined hands was the most comical thing Cindy had ever seen. Many of them whispered words of encouragement whilst others gave them envious but approving looks. Hyunjin walked Cindy to her seat and to everyone’s surprise as well as delight, he gave her a small but sweet kiss on the cheek as he squeezed her hand tightly before making his way towards his members, all who were looking at him in astonishment as well as pride.

Cindy sat down next to her leader, who was trying not to laugh.

“When I told you not to care about other’s reactions, I didn’t mean this, but I’m not complaining,” she laughed and the rest of the members grinned at Cindy happily. Then, Oneus’ performance started and they were all too preoccupied with singing and dancing along to think of anything else.

…

“And the Album of the Year Award goes to… Stray Kids, congratulations!” The stadium erupted into loud cheers and screams as the Stray Kids members looked around in shock, not being able to believe that the MC had just called their name. Bangchan recovered first and quickly ushered the boys to the main stage, whilst bowing and thanking the other idols who congratulated them. Hyunjin looked dazed as he walked past, but as he passed Cindy he gave her a playful wink as she enthusiastically gave him two thumbs up. The members reached the stage and gratefully accepted the award before going on to making their speech.

“Hello, we are Stray Kids!” Bangchan started thanking everyone for helping them and expressed how grateful they all were for the award, and the members smiled as they heard their fans cheering for them. After he finished, he looked around at the others, asking if anyone else wanted to say anything. To their surprise, Hyunjin stepped forward, even though he never gave acceptance speeches. Bangchan stepped to the side as Hyunjin came in front of the mic, and the audience started cheering once again as they saw him.

“Stay, thank you so much for giving us this award, I have no words to be able to thank you enough for this,” he began as he looked around the audience. Finally, his eyes went to the idols seating section, where he sought out a particular face. After finding it, he smiled as he saw the happiness and pride on Cindy’s face and quickly continued. “I also want to thank a special person who has made this past year one of the best years of my life. We’ve come across a few hardships, and I’m so glad we were able to overcome them. I love you.” Cindy was beyond relieved when she heard the audience scream for the umpteenth time that night, and that made her so happy.

The Stray Kids members made their way back to the seating place and by chance there were seats right next to Cindy’s group so they sat down there. The group reshuffled so that Cindy and Hyunjin ended up sitting next to each other. Hyunjin bashfully put an arm around her shoulders and Cindy laughed at his playfulness before she spotted the same fan-camera filing them. She turned towards Hyunjin and he followed her gaze, before leaning to whisper something in her ear.

“Just wave and then they’ll get confused,” he said, trying not to laugh, and so they did just that. After a few seconds of them smiling and waving at the camera, the fan hesitantly put it down and turned her attention towards the stage instead. Hyunjin and Cindy grinned at each other before also focusing on the stage. And when Cindy’s group won an award for, Hyunjin made sure to clap for them the most, to many of the idol’s amusement.

After the award show ended, the two groups, along with Oneus, decided to go out for a celebratory meal in happiness of all of them winning an award that night. Cindy leaned her head on Hyunjin’s shoulder as they watched their friends talk excitedly with each other, and for the first time in their relationship, they felt truly and blissfully at peace. They finally didn’t have to worry about Dispatch or any other reporters, anti-fans etc. They could finally be with each other the way they wanted. Of course, there was bound to be backlash, but as the saying goes, love conquers all.

A.N// Thank you for taking the time out for reading this. I also wanted to say a big big big thank you to everyone who read my Lee Know Final Escape au, it felt amazing when I saw how many notes it had, I genuinely expected that it wouldn’t be liked too much but THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH!! I am writing more au’s and I’ve thought of writing some series too (I’m in the middle of writing a Minho au Mafia/ Gang etc series so if anyone has any ideas for that plsss let me know :) ) so I will try harder to improve in the future. Thank you once again!!!

#straykidsfanfiction #straykidsstory #hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin #idolau #stray kids fluff #straykidsangst

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subbing-for-clones · 4 years ago

Text

The New Apprentice Part 10

Maul x Sith Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

WARNINGS: Pining, death canon and non-canon, blood

PREVIOUS NEXT MASTERLIST

Maul had given into your desires as he stayed behind on Zanbar while you boarded one of the Death Watch ships with Savage and Vizsla. You scoffed at the loosely hanging Pyke robes attempting to pin them back so the extra fabric wouldn't get in your way. Savage was muttering specifics with Bo closer the rear of the ship while Vizsla eyed you.

"Allow me." He sauntered over to you and expertly gathered some of the fabric behind your back, fastening it with a safety pin.

"A warrior, leader and seamster I presume." Slightly annoyed how your flesh reacted to touch. Only your master had touched you outside of combat for the first time in years. You weren't attracted to this human. Your body simply reacted because of biology, or something, you reasoned.

"I'm sure you'll come to find I'm a man of many talents." He hummed with a smirk on his face.

He dug the mask out of your pack and held it in his hands, looking deeply into the eye holes with a stoic look on his face.

"I need to ask a favor of you." His tone was firm but some kind of anxiety lay behind it. You narrowed your eyes at him expecting bile to spring from his lips.

"What?"

"I know you are powerful, a gifted fighter and I'm assuming strong with the ways of the Sith." You had no clue where he was going with this so when he paused you waited, searching his eyes for something his words didn't tell you.

"What I don't know is what stake you have in this... conflict."

"What is the favor you're dodging around Mandalorian?"

"These aren't your people. This isn't your planet. Although your current role in this siege is to make a fuss for us to stop, I ask that the chaos you spur on sticks to the script. These are my people; this is my home. I know civilians will die and I know buildings will burn but please... please don't destroy everything. I may not be a force user but I can sense that, you could."

You sighed. Why does he have to care? In a way he reminded you of the Nightbrother you loved. Commanding, fierce, taking what he wants. But encased with a hard exterior that cracked, leaking a gentle and soft core. You shook your head. Why must men be these complicated yet predictable creatures. You'd much rather go back to viewing everyone in the same light as the slaver except for Savage and Maul. It was so much easier that way, but you couldn't.

"I assure you. No one who doesn't need to die to get the point across will fall by my blades."

He actually looked relieved. Much too trusting this bald and scarred man was. You weren't lying but how could he tell?

"Thank you."

He handed you the mask, just hardly brushing his fingers against yours. Your skin still tingled when he pulled away and walked to the cockpit. You were thanking the stars that your Master had stayed on Zanbar. Simply biology. You continued to sooth yourself. Maul may not have sensed it but Savage not far from you definetly did.

He would never say anything about it however. He understood the wanting of the heart and the body often intertwined but were also separate. He held no romantic love for you but sometimes when you sparred something would stir in his belly that had nothing to do with his heat cycle. It's probably a touch starvation symptom. He knew this but also knew that Maul wouldn't be so understanding if he ever found out so he wouldn't say a word.

You had stowed away with a few Pykes in a cargo container currently being lowered onto the shipping docks. The four of you smiled and chuckled with an excited anticipation. You had given your sabers to Savage remembering the discussion that took place in the makeshift strategy tent on the moon once everyone had left but the three of you.

"We need Vizsla to be the face of our rule so the Jedi are none the wiser until I'm ready for them to come." Maul seethed in that velvety growl that never failed to make you tremble.

"One Sith causing trouble, especially if he leaves no survivors won't give us away but two or three? They'd come in full force and we aren't ready for that just yet."

The grip on your newly acquired viroblades tightened. Of course, he was right. Your master was always right. A slight wave of guilt for doubting his reasoning in the first place tugged at your heart.

You had almost lost yourself in your thoughts when the cargo entrance opened, revealing several Mandalorian guards. Every cargo container down the line burst open with Pykes pouring out, pointing blasters at the shocked men in uniform. You slashed open the throat of the one nearest you, blood spurting from his neck and spraying your loth wolf mask.

"Surrender, these docks are now under the control of the Pyke syndicate," the leader of this faction spoke smoothly.

The remaining guards nodded furiously with their arms in the air, glancing down at their slowly dying brother as he writhed, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. You threw your knife and stuck it square between his eyes just to quiet his chocked groans.

Within a matter of hours many 'hot spots' were taken under various syndicate control. The Pykes had taken the docks. The Black Suns had control of a number of public meeting grounds, leaving the city center for Death Watch to make an appearance. Savage was currently overtaking the banks with members of the Hutt Clan's minions. All was going according to your master's plan.

The following day you had hidden away your costume and disappeared into the crowd of citizens as the Duchess made her address to the people. Of course, she tried to calm them, ordering they wait this out, refusing to retaliate. You rolled your eyes so hard they could've fallen out of your head. She's making this so fucking easy.

But when Vizsla broke the skyline, hovering in front of her with his guard your stomach turned at the sight. She couldn't have been quicker to accuse him of these attacks which if course he denied. He turned to speak to his people, giving a proper introduction and spoke with authority. He kept his speech short and strong. Promising to save the planet that the Duchess had so easily and eagerly weakened. You could sense the relief and admiration from the thousands gathered in the city center through the force just before cries of joy echoed throughout. It made your heart flutter. Surely you were just picking up on the peoples' emotions you reasoned.

Slowly but surely across the city members of Death Watch were rescuing the guards and citizens from their false imprisonment. Effectively dropping Pre Vizsla's name once the scripted gangsters were in custody.

You tore away from the main vault just before Savage activated the detonator. "Keep up you weaklings!" He called to the Pykes as the two of you led the retreat eliciting a feral giggle from you. The both of you were throwing bystanders over the rail as you ran. Only one out of five actually fell to their death before they could be saved by the surviving guard.

You're supposed to rid the galaxy of fear not ignite it!

The voice boomed in your mind causing you to halt just around the corner, shaking your head furiously, confused. Death Watch was waiting for you as planned. It was Vizsla himself who fought Savage with the dark saber. Coming out of your confused stupor only sent you reeling into a new one at the sight. It was choreographed for sure but still, you did love a man who could wield a weapon of the sort. He submit Savage and turned his attention to you with a smirk on his face. Thanking the gods that the mask hid your blush as a binding cable shot out of his gauntlet, tethering around you. You fell to your knees and although that was the plan, your emotions had clouded you and it was not necessarily a false win on his part.

At this point of the plan Maul wanted you to keep a close eye on the Death Watch leader. Vizsla had his own reasons for wanting you by his side so it took little convincing for him to lend you some spare armor and a helmet as he stormed the palace with you and his team. As predicted, Satine didn't struggle and he shot you a victorious glance nudging his elbow into you. You couldn't stop the bubble of excitement as it manifested itself in a stifled giggle.

That night you stood by his side on the tallest terrace while Savage, the leaders of the Pykes and the Black Suns knelt in binders below. The crowd of Mandalorians chanted Vizsla's name as Bo Kataan addressed them, announcing that Vizsla would lead them forward if the people would accept him which they whole heartedly did.

"Its gone even better than I could've hoped."

You turned your helmeted head to face him. The voice you heard just before your capture never stopped echoing in your mind. You knew this was wrong. Your role in it anyway. You shoved your subconscious down deeply inside yourself as you responded to him.

"The people love you. They think you saved them."

"I wouldn't be where I am without you."

"Or without the Pykes, without the Hutts or the Black Suns. Truly at its root you wouldn't be here without my Master. I fear you forget, he orchestrated all of this. You'd still be on that moon grasping at straws without him." You straightened your back and looked back towards the crowd calming the storm that raged within you. Sensing his twinge of displeasure through the force as your loyalty was solidified before him.

In the throne room Maul finally joined your band of criminals. You quickly returned to his side earning an approving glance from him. Vizsla's eyes narrowed finally understanding exactly how far your loyalty lay with your master.

"Good of you to join us Lord Maul." His annoyance was adamant and you felt something uneasy stir in you. Maul seemed to sense it as well as Vizsla's guards slowly formed a half circle behind you.

"The transition of power will be seamless; we now have the support of the people and Satine to bait Kenobi." Vizsla continued, confident as ever. "With his demise our deal will be complete."

Maul crossed his arms over his chest inadvertently flexing his biceps and his chest as he rumbled.

"Your oversight requires correction... we now have a base, an army and the means to expand into other neutral systems."

Vizsla scoffed. "It wasn't an oversight. It was intentional. I don't have an interest in another systems. Your vision no longer matters."

With blasters pointed at your heads you and your master growled as the members of Death Watch placed you in binders while Vizsla took the throne.

"Oh don't fret, I'll still honor our deal. Kenobi will be dealt with but now you'll do as I say." You snarled at his words. You fucking hated the way your arms were trapped behind you. Baring your teeth, you shot daggers into him as he turned his attention to you, an almost pained look in his eyes.

"You however darling I will give one and only one chance to rid yourself of this angry brute." He loosely waved his hand in Maul’s direction. Your Master's pupils dilated and his chest vibrated in fury.

"Join me. Rule by my side and I will give you everything you could ever want." He extended his hand out to you as Bo Kataan reluctantly guided you to him.

Maul roared with a bestial, primal rage filled roar that shook the windows while his guard pressed the blaster harder into the back of his head. You smirked and leaned forward so your face was inches apart from the false king and you hummed seductively.

"You sweet, foolish human man. You have nothing I could ever want. You will never have anything I could ever want." You straightened and cleared your throat, spitting in his face.

He angrily wiped the spit off of his cheek as Bo fired her blaster that had been set to stun, dropping you to the floor at his feet.

"It’s a shame really." Vizsla grieved. "Such a waste of someone so beautiful and powerful." He kicked you down the stairs that led to the throne.

"Take them away!"

"We still have time to put in place a ruler that will bend to our will. By putting us in prison he has only placed us within reach of viable candidates." You stirred at your Master's whispers.

"Then we shall find one!" Patience gone from Savage's tone, you opened your eyes and took in your surroundings. A thick glass door, starkly bright white walls of the small cell the three of you were crammed into. You sat up on the cold bench you had been resting on. Rubbing your temple as Maul sat beside you wrapping one arm around your waist.

"Your loyalty to me is astounding and appreciated my young apprentice. You will be rewarded in due time." He traced your jawline with a finger while he turned his attention back to Savage.

"Calm yourself brother we will find one. Vizsla has imprisoned the Duchess here and various other political figures who will serve our purposes well."

"Hey! Quiet you monsters." A guard called out to the three of you.

"Savage, I wish a tour of this facility."

Maul helped you to your feet and Savage smirked, using the force to shatter the glass subsequently launching the mouthy guard over the rail and far down below. Without your sabers you reached your hand out to one more guard as he gripped at his throat. Your teeth bared you clenched your fist pulling a delicious crunching sound from his now limp body, tossing it aside.

Once you found the Duchess it didn't take long for her to point you directly to the kind of man you sought. She had thought she was being clever, sassy and insulting but like all other areas in her life; she failed.

"Thanks blondie." You taunted as the three of you made your way to the next cell. The former Prime Minister called Almec was confused that Maul was interested in him and the cause of his imprisonment. Once he explained that he was here on charges of corruption for dealing in the black market his suspicion that you were in league with Vizsla was satiated at the death of a third guard. Killed by Savage for firing a stray blast in their direction.

"I can see you are powerful but how would you overthrow Vizsla? Just the three of you?"

"He is a solider therefor bound by honor. I will challenge him to single combat and once I defeat him, take possession of the Dark Saber, the Death Watch will follow my rule. You will then act as my puppet, ruling falsely in my stead while I take control in the shadows."

"Yes. Yes that will work. According to the ancient laws of Mandalore his men will be bound to follow you."

The four of you smiled with determination as you led Almec from his cell, killing the few and far between guards that stood in your way of the throne room.

#maul x y/n #star wars maul #swtcw au #swtcw #maul x reader #sith apprentice #maul x sith reader #maul x sith apprentice #darth maul #maul fluff #platonic savage #savage opress #star wars #sith warrior

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kurohoely · 4 years ago

Text

always (daichi x y/n)

part 3

genre: exes to lovers, slow burn(?) idk how genre works, sfw, daichi!timeskip

cw: sexual harassment wc: 2.2k

a/n: it pains me this part so much :') but i realli like how i wrote this part hehe i hope you do too!! enjoy :D likes and reblogs are highly appreciated :))

part one , part two, part three

Not once you had the heart to block his number, even after you blocked him from all of your social media. You hoped that by leaving this one door open, he will find a way to come back to you, or at least reach out to you again. Your legs were exerting heat, pumping your muscles to make you walk faster so that you can reach your home as soon as possible. With the constant gasping for air, vibrating through your body, you didn’t realize the faint vibration of your phone, lighting up with a notification from daichi <3. Grabbing your keys from your bag, unlocking the door while kicking your sandals off from your feet. You opened your sliding door, letting the spring breeze fill up your atmosphere. What a nice way to cool down your body. You dug your hands into your bag, fumbling to find your phone. Unconsciously, you unlocked your phone without seeing the notifications that popped up, skimming through your apps, and seeing whatever apps had the number badge on them. The last app you scrolled to was your messages. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the number one on the top corner of the icon. You pressed it, heart pounding, excreting cold sweats from your fingers. There, you saw his message.

“It was nice seeing you at our shop. If you’re free tomorrow, can we catch dinner together?”

Einstein is right, time and space are gravity because you can feel your insides starting to churned then float away, as your time stopped and your spatial awareness came to halt as well. It was as if the universe let this moment freeze for you, to take in whatever you are seeing and experiencing right now. You should’ve listened to what your mind and friends said back then, block him everywhere. Don’t leave a hole for him to come into your life again. You know this is going to hurt either way but you want to be done with it once and for all. You both need proper closure, and not some petty teenager’s love quarrel.

“You too. I’m free tomorrow”

“Great, see you at our shop at 8?”

Daichi replied instantly like he was waiting on his phone for your reply. You don’t want to show too much enthusiasm, especially when things are going to end anyway, so you thumbs-upped his last text, letting him know you agree to his suggestion. You wanted to cringe so badly that Daichi kept referring to the coffee shop as our shop but you couldn’t. In fact, you found it very sweet and a bit romantic. You plopped down onto your bed, creating scripts in your head to all the possible scenarios that could happen between the both of you tomorrow, not forgetting to include her. Be strong y/n, you got this. You have to. You gotta move on.

7:30. You slipped the black silk dress that you wore on your first date with Daichi, just so you can rewrite the memories of this dress, removing bits and pieces of him in your life. You tied your hair into a low ponytail and started making your way to the shop. Upon reaching the shop, you were greeted by Daichi’s figure. It made your heart flutter seeing him dressed up so nicely as well. It gave you proof that it wasn’t a one-sided effort to make the date look like a proper one. A date, huh…

You both sat down at a secluded spot so you can have a more private conversation. Things were too uncertain, both of you prepared for the polar opposite of each other’s expectations. Daichi wanted to start over while you wanted to end everything once and for all. You both placed your order, starting off with some small awkward small talk, trying to lighten up the air. While waiting for the food to come, Daichi mustered up all his courage and started the conversation that you both came for.

“Y/n, I know this is going to sound stupid and crazy coming from me, but I couldn’t help it. I want to know, hell, I need to know. It’s been six months since we broke up but have you ever thought of getting back together?”

You gasped at his audacity to ask you that while he was in a relationship. It never crossed your mind how Daichi could stoop any lower but he just proved you wrong right in your face. You straighten your back, eyes looking straight into his eyes, trying to find any guilt within them. None. You could feel his sincerity. What the hell is going on?

“Daichi, if you want me back just because you have no one, I don't want it. What you want is someone that listens to you - a dumb bitch that listens - as to how you said it. I’ve heard enough for today Daichi. I don’t think I could take anything more than this. Focus on your girl. You can be mean towards me but to the very least I don't want you to be a cheater for her. I came here to get some type of closure with you. Seems like I got it now”

Your tongue worked faster than your brain could even process it. Not enough time to even register and consider how Daichi - or at least you - would feel if someone would throw the exact words to you. Before you knew it, your eyes started to pool. You dashed out from the shop before the tears came pouring down in front of Daichi. You left before you could hurt yourself even more. You know you hurt Daichi but it hurts you more than you anticipated. For once, why couldn’t you follow what your heart really wants, what it has yearned for so long, all this time?

You walked through the main street of your house, the same old usual route. The street was pretty bright, given the new street lamps just got placed along the road but being a woman in this god-forsaken world, you can never be too prepared. You placed your thumb on the circle button of the app the whole time. If you suddenly released it and if you didn’t touch the circle within a few seconds, it will automatically call your emergency contacts. Such a smart thing, you thought to yourself but what you failed to notice was a drunk man starting to close his distance, moving towards you.

You were greeted by the sudden jerk on your shoulder. A drunk man putting his hands around your shoulder, started to massage your arms, feeling your flesh through your jacket. You froze and pushed his hands off, bowing to him and saying sorry that you’re in a hurry. He grabbed your wrist with a force that you know will leave blue marks. You were so scared that he would swing his bottle at you if you tried to fight longer. In all of the days, you were always careful. Your frustration with Daichi made you drop your guard slightly and someone took the chance. You repeatedly asked the drunk man to let you go, lying that your husband is around and going to pick up you soon. He inches his face in closer, opening his mouth as if wanting to slobber you whole. You felt disgusted by the strong pungent smell of alcohol and just wished Daichi was here. Wishing you had at least someone to walk you home. Why the world was so cruel to you lately. Why can't you ever feel safe and peacefully enjoy this week?

“Y/N!”

Daichi shoved the man aside, took your hand, and started to run. You followed his steps as best as you could. After Daichi deemed it was safe enough, he stopped. Huff and puffs, hands still interlocked with each other.

“Are you okay!? Thank God I made it in time. Oh my God. I shouldn’t have let you walk alone in the night. Are you hurt anywhere?”

Before you could even answer, tears gushed down your cheeks. You wailed and sobbed your heart out. You placed your head into Daichi’s chest, clasping his shirt to find any form of comfort. Maybe this was something that needed to happen for you to be fully open and vulnerable with Daichi. He hugged you tightly, hushing sweet nothings into your ears. It's not that you were crying about what just happened, it's more like the mere thought of Daichi in that situation makes you cry your heart out. Even when your life was threatened, you still managed to remember Daichi. But is this the right choice? Daichi rubs your shoulders gently.

“Come on, let's get you back home”

He opened your apartment’s door, guiding you to sit down on the couch. He went into your bedroom and wrapped a blanket over your body. He placed the takeouts on the kitchen counter, making his way to make some tea to calm you down. You sit down on the couch, hugging your knees. Daichi plopped down, folded one of his legs, and faced his body to you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at his face, so grabbed your mug and hugged your fingers around it.

“How come you were there?”

“I chased you after you left. I think we have some misunderstanding so I wanted to go to your house and talk again. I’m so glad that I followed you, even though it was a bit late... I’m sorry”

You finally look at Daichi. Concerned, fear, disappointment painted clearly across his face. Before you could open your mouth, he continued.

“Y/n, I'm not sure why you kept saying ‘her’ and ‘my girl’ repeatedly so I tried to trace back to the first meeting. I saw you in the lobby and by that time, I was with my twin cousin. She just got this job recently and she asked me to come for lunch and show me around. I swear she's family and nothing more.”

How is it that Daichi never fails to see through you, even if it took him a bit of time? You covered your face with your mug. Heat started rising up your cheeks and up to your ears. It's getting really hot and it’s not coming from the blanket. So much for wanting to act like a grown-up and not having some petty love quarrel. You almost ended your only chance of getting back together by some childish assumptions. Oh, how you wish the earth could swallow you whole and never let you out. Daichi tucked your hair back to your ears, gently pulling your hands into his, placing them in between his.

“Hey, was that the reason you left the shop? I’m hurt y/n”

A sprinkle of sarcasm was woven into his words. You know it but you can't help that as if a whole block of weight slipped through your shoulders as you sighed into relief. He squeezed your hands firmer, signaling things are going to get even more serious.

“Y/n, I want you. I still love you. I never stopped loving you. When you left, I couldn't feel anything. I eat and sleep just because I have to. It kept me alive. Remember when we met at our shop? That was the first time I started running again, picking up my routine back. I want our relationship to work. I want us to work.”

“Daichi, I’m scared to start again. I hate that I keep contradicting myself. I don't want anything with you but when I got caught by that man, all I could think was you”

“I know y/n. I’m sorry that you have to go through that but I want to give us another chance if you let me. I know I ended it badly but I feel like I rushed to a decision that I didn't even want. If there's still some love left inside you, please let me in again. Please let me make us work.”

You squeezed Daichi’s hands, finding some strength that you could borrow from him. You pushed his arms and placed them over your shoulders, placing your head against his chest, snuggling soundly in his embrace. You took a deep breath, inhaling his scent, mixed with his musky perfume. The scent of home.

“Okay, Daichi. I want us to start again. I still love you. I will always love you”

He kissed your hairline, pulling your body flushed into his. His hug tightened quickly as if you’re going to go away if he held any looser. You chuckled as you pat his arms, reassuring him that you won't leave him. You straightened up your body and kissed his cheeks. Pink tint painted across Daichi's nose and cheeks.

“Do you wanna stay here for the night? It's already late and it's the weekend tomorrow anyways, if you don't have any work that is”

“I would love to”

Daichi stood up and took your hand, tugging your body towards your bedroom. He laid you down first before he placed himself beside you, draping his arms around your waist, foreheads touching each other. You both looked into each other eyes, finally seeing the love that was long hidden by other emotions.

“Good night Daichi”

You snuggled into his chest, listening to his heartbeat as if it was your lullaby for tonight. He stared at you before he moved his lips to kiss the crown of your head, whispering the words that you longed for.

“Good night sweetheart. I love you. Forever and always”

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vampiric-daydreams · 5 years ago

Text

Enlightenment

Jasper x Reader

This is Part 3 of the Jasper miniseries. Here is Part 1.

Summary: Your secret investigation picks up speed and you finally talk to Jasper. As the evidence piles up, you wonder if you’ve made a grave mistake. A surge of courage paves a new course for your future.

Word Count: 2,814

A/N: !!!!!!!!

Your finger hovered over the call button as you stared at Jasper’s name with intent. Your hairs stood on end as the chilly night air forced you deeper into the thick blankets enveloping you. The bitter cold clouded your windows as midnight approached, and the soft pitter-patter of rain splashing on the roof served as a comforting lullaby. Heavy eyelids threatened to fall as Jasper’s name blurred. You tapped the screen.

‘Hey,’

The word sat in the text box and waited for you to press send. It was the third time you had tried to contact him that night. First craving to hear his voice, knowing that his words and his time in that moment would be only for you; and then settling for a message you would never send. What if, after he felt he’d resolved everything, that would be it? No more talking? Those ideas were enough to make you shut the screen off and leave the phone on charge.

You wanted this to be a chance for a beginning, not an ending. It was his choice to not want to be with you, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t be near you. As painful as his sheer loyalty and devotion to Alice was, it only caused you to like him more. Long forgiven were his shameless brags about his girlfriend; they made you blush when you imagined him talking about you.

As your head sank into your pillow, thoughts of affection lulled you to sleep; and dreams of soft lips and firm hands carried you through the lonely, frigid night.

At school, life went on. Jason proceeded to pine after Eric Yorkie, just as you pined after Jasper. Alice continued to greet you whenever she saw you, but the other Cullens had faded into the background. As you walked into your English class expecting to see your neighbouring seat empty again, somebody was already sitting there, nibbling on a pencil.

Bella Swan wore her hair in a low, messy ponytail. She tugged at the sleeves of her flannel. “H-Hey,” she said as you approached. “You’re (Y/N), right?” Your heart fluttered; not because she knew your name, but because she likely heard it from a Cullen - and you hoped it was Jasper who had mentioned you. You slid into your seat beside her, tripping over her old orange backpack on the way. She dragged her bag out of the walkway and stammered a quick, “sorry.”

“You’re Bella Swan?” You feigned ignorance. Bella nodded. “You’re dating Edward, right?”

Her shoulders seemed tense. “Y-Yeah, for a while.”

“So how come you switched classes?” Did Jasper make her so he could get away from you?

“Oh, uh, the admin ladies just said another student wanted to switch due to a class conflict, so I said I didn’t mind.” Wanted. Jasper had chosen to distance himself from you, and the reminder made you skip a breath.

“I haven’t seen Edward around today, did he skip school without you or something?” You changed the subject before you could cry, still careful to not pry too hard with Bella. This was a chance to dig deeper into the Cullens and their secret.

“Oh… he isn’t feeling well, so he’s at home.” Bella Swan was a terrible liar. She had so many tells and nervous habits, you couldn't believe her father was the chief of police. Bella stopped tugging at her flannel sleeves and instead rolled them up to her elbows. You would never have seen it if she hadn’t raised her arm to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear—but there it was; clear as crystal. A scar marred the inner side of her wrist; lighter than the rest of her skin and raised. A human bite.

Never had you noticed, despite all your pining for the Hale boy, that none of the Cullens ever ate anything. Emmett and Rosalie’s trays held a few pieces of fruit, whole and untouched, until Alice and Jasper joined them in dumping their food in a nearby trash can. They never eat or go to the bathroom. You had thought more about how safe your thoughts were and deemed that most evidence you had towards mind-reading pointed at Edward. It was Edward who put words into your mouth—and even Alice pointed her finger at him in the phony story she had tried to feed you. You would test that theory today and not hide your thoughts to see what would happen.

Reciting the proof you’d gathered in your head, there was a word on the tip of your tongue. A very strong accusation—one that was mythical and insane, but you couldn’t shake the idea since you saw Bella’s bite mark. The notebook on the table was open to your ‘Cullen’ page, and you were near enough to observe their irises from where you were sitting. You just needed to act nonchalant about it.

You hadn’t updated your notebook for a week as you hadn’t gotten close enough to any of them to have a proper look. But your table was only ten strides away from theirs. You clicked your pen. Monday, Emmett, gold. Jasper, gold. You took a bite out of your sandwich, creating a gap in glances so as not to draw their attention. Rosalie, gold. Your heart was racing. Alice, gold. You glanced back at the previous entry just to be sure, but the black ink told no lies. Rosalie and Alice’s eyes had changed. Your hand moved, and the words formed on the paper in front of you.

Get close, check for contacts.

It was the last logical explanation for any of it; and while Jasper’s eyes never changed, he would be the easiest Cullen to talk to today as he was still waiting to apologise and give you his own phony explanation. After lunch, it didn’t take long for you to find Jasper waiting outside one of his classes. All it took was one look for him to follow you out to a quiet space behind one of the back buildings on campus.

His Southern twang made your heart melt. “You didn’t call. I thought you weren’t ready.”

Why didn’t his biological sister sound Southern?

“I wanted to do this in person.” You took care to seem assertive, despite your teeth threatening to chatter and your palms sweating.

“(Y/N), I’m not even sure where to start…” Jasper began apologising, just as his adopted siblings and girlfriend did before him; repeating the same so-called explanation supposed to make everything go away. You tried to focus on your goal instead of the way his voice broke, or the way the tips of his strawberry blonde hair brushed against his strong jawline. Concentrating on his eyes, you were looking for a very thin line—one that would give away a contact lens. But his eyes were flawless, clear, and natural. A chill crept up your spine.

The more Jasper spoke, the more you heard that his manner of speaking sounded dated at times. It came and left like each beat of a butterfly’s wing, but it was noticeable to somebody already on that train of thought. That word that came to you earlier threatened to slip from your tongue if you weren’t careful; and you restrained it by clenching your teeth.

“I understand,” you replied once Jasper had finished reciting the script they had given him. A swift wind of courage blew through your body as you straightened up. “And I’m sorry for making you stew in guilt for this long. I guess I was just afraid to approach you.” You twisted the knife. “But even Alice said, it’s not like any of you bite, right?”

Jasper’s gaze morphed from sincerity to one that pierced through you. His body turned rigid, and his eyes squinted ever so slightly. “That’s right. We gave you one hell of an impression. But as you can see, that impression was wrong, and we’re just average people like you.” The double-edge in his words threatened to cut you. “So, there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

The suspicion that drove you suddenly came to a halt; replaced by a warm feeling of satisfaction and comfort. It was just like that time you had that confrontation with Jasper and Edward, and you felt soothed; but this time, you were conscious of it. So, you soldiered on through this strange, artificial complacency and tried to hold on to any shred of logic you had left.

“It’s weird how whenever my anger or difference of opinion becomes inconvenient for you, I suddenly feel this strange toggling of my emotions.” The cosy aura strengthened. You remained aware. “It’s almost as if you’re controlling it somehow. Just like how Edward knows what I’m thinking and Alice has no trouble finding me. But there’s nothing to see here, right?”

Jasper stopped whatever it was he was trying to do and gave you an incredulous look. “Come with me.”

He started walking, never turning back to check if you were following, towards an outline of trees in the distance that led to the forest. You walked in the opposite direction, back into the school. Now that your theory was all but confirmed, you wouldn’t follow any of his kind into further seclusion. Entering the nearest building, the gym, you sat on the bleachers and pulled out your notebook. There would be enough witnesses surrounding you to ensure your safety. You dug around in your backpack for a loose pen and clicked it.

The Cullens are vampires.

- Edward, mind reading

- Jasper, emotions, cold skin

- Bella, bite scar on arm

- Alice… extreme knowing???

- Never eat

- Never use bathroom

- All look the same, not biologically related

- Eyes change colour, no contact lenses

You slammed the book shut and stuffed it back in your backpack. Clenching your car keys, you felt eyes on you. On your hands, on your back, on your face. Fear took over your mind as abandoned all logic and raced out of the gym and into your car; darting your eyes left and right for any angry vampires waiting to murder you to conceal their secret.

This was a mistake. A horrible mistake. You should have told someone where you were going, and who you were going with so the Cullens would be accountable. The engine roared to life as you slammed your foot on the accelerator. What if they killed your family over this? You swerved, narrowly missing a police car in an intersection. Red and blue lights flashed behind you as a siren sounded. Shit. You pulled over in a side street and rolled down your window.

The officer pulled in behind you, taking his time to get out of the police car. You tapped your fingers on the dusty dashboard, checking your side mirror to see what was taking so long; only to watch as Chief Swan himself shut his car door and strolled over to your side window.

“Everything all right over here?” He put his hands on his hips. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry Officer—I mean Chief Swan—I’m in a hurry to get home, I’m not feeling well.” Your knuckles whitened as you clenched your fists.

“You have a licence with you?” He was holding a clipboard and a pen. The last thing you needed was a fine on top of everything else. You handed him your licence and tried to look as pathetic as possible. “Well, (Y/N),” he read your name, “must be one hell of an illness.”

“I’m really sorry, Chief Swan. I was feeling anxious at school and I needed to get out of there and back home where I’ll feel better.”

Chief Swan sighed. “I can drop you off, and my partner will drive your car home.” He gave you a stern look. “I won’t fine you this time. Just drive more carefully? Maybe let somebody else drive if you’re this stressed out?”

You nodded fast. He motioned for you to get out of the car.

The drive back to your place was silent. You contemplated asking him how he felt about his daughter dating one of the Cullens to see if he’d spill anything; but there was nothing left to dig for. Jasper didn’t have to say the word, and neither did you, for your discovery to become clear on both ends. You tried to steady your breathing as the police car stopped by the curb outside your house. Your own car pulled into the driveway as the other officer locked the door behind him and crossed his arms.

Your legs shook as you exited the police car, the other officer handed you your keys. “Go inside, get some rest,” Chief Swan said as you looked back at him. “We’ll have to contact a parent or guardian, so I’ll stop by later tonight when they’re home. You’ll be all right by yourself?”

“Y-Yeah, thanks.”

Chief Swan and the other officer watched you enter your front door before they drove away.

You scurried to your bedroom, collapsing onto your bed with your backpack still on. Hot tears burned your cheeks as they dripped down to your chin; your snotty nose forcing you to breathe through your mouth. It was dark by the time you had calmed. You slid your backpack from your shoulders and kicked it against your pillows. Wiping your face with shaking hands, you pressed your nose to the glass window and peered out. No vampires waiting to kill me.

Temporary relief washed through you. You were safe now, but what about tomorrow, and the next day? What about after that? You walked to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. The cool liquid soothed your raw throat.

The Cullens couldn’t let you go on knowing what they truly were. It wasn’t as though you would tell anybody—who would even believe you? Even now, with all the evidence you had collected and seen, you struggled to accept it, yourself. A sick laugh shook your core as you imagined storming into Chief Swan’s office at the station with theories about vampires dating his daughter. He, and everyone else in town would call you crazy. Even telling one person what you thought had the potential to ruin your life.

Your teeth ached from how hard you had been clenching your jaw earlier, and your chest felt so tight that it hurt to breathe. You finished your water and washed out the glass. It wasn’t that late yet, but after the events of the day all you wanted to do was curl up under your blankets and try to sleep.

Thump.

The sound came from your bedroom. You crept against the wall, keeping close to the shadows. What if they want to kill me right now?

You exhaled roughly. They couldn’t kill you. Forks was a small town; people would notice if you were missing. It wasn’t something that would slide under the radar… Then you froze solid. All the supposed animal attacks of the past year flashed through your mind, one by one. Wasn’t there a rumour going around about the bodies being drained of blood?

You cracked open your bedroom door, and goosebumps dispersed across your skin. The air in your room was colder than the rest of the house, and you shivered. Your eyes darted around in search for someone, but your bedroom was empty. You sighed in relief as you noticed the sound had come from your backpack falling off your bed. You walked over and picked it back up, rummaging through it for your notebook. A frown forced its way onto your face. You swore you hadn’t taken it out, yet.

Pouring the backpack’s contents onto your bed, you scattered text books and pens to the side. Nothing. You searched beneath your bed, in the space between your dresser and your wall, and across every surface in the room. Drawers were pulled and piles of clothes were frantically scattered as the walls closed in on you. If you’d lost this notebook with everything in it…

A frigid gust of air froze your back before you turned around. Your notebook was missing; and the window you knew for certain had been closed before you left was now wide open.

Tears pricked at your eyes again as you spun around, stifling a scream. Jasper Hale now stood five steps away from you, his impossible eyes burning with intensity.

Tags: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @eggmettcullen @xcharlottemikaelsonx @oi-itsemily @cacti-succulents-andlesbians @aw0kenangel @jelly-fishy-babie @kawaiikpoplover268 @awkwardnesshabitat @salsameter @dillybuggg @awesomebooklover17 @badgirlsdeaddreams @raindancer2004 @camillapad @champagnejoker

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nade2308 · 4 years ago

Note

For the Drabble thingy

5 Bruised - Jack Dalton

No pressure though

I think Nade and the concept of a drabble aren't on the same planet. I finished the thing. Hope you like this @starryhc. As for the inspiration for this story, awhile back I saw a post on Tumblr where there was a deleted scene from the 1x01 script where Jack worked as a stunt double on a movie set and we are blaming this fic on my dream brain requesting this as the reason for the bruises. Hope it's what you had in mind when you asked, Starry . The "drabble" is under the cut.

Jack let his kid take his fill by looking him up and down. Jack knew that he looked a little bit worse for wear, but that was normal in their line of work. This time however, it was from something else. And judging by the way Mac was eyeing him, he didn't manage to hide it well.

(Next time, I'm asking for Boze and his special make up).

It had been two months since they saw each other last. And Jack didn't know how he went two months without contact. But it was what Mac asked of him. Some time to rest and reflect. And Jack had so many objections to that... but he swallowed them and agreed. What else there was to be done? His kid needed time, and contrary to popular opinion, Jack wasn't going to push and hover. He knew when to back down when he wasn't needed.

The ugly doubts reared their heads as soon as they touched down in the States, though. Why was Mac asking for some time to himself? He never did before, why now? Mac was also never been shot within an inch of his life and his girlfriend was killed in the same night so Jack reasoned with that. He knew about people and having to start over when they had a brush with death and some decisions they made in the aftermath of their near-death experience. Jack just learned to deal with it. As always. When Mac called him out of the blue at 1am and asked if he could come over, Jack was ecstatic to say in the least. He didn't even stop to think of the reason. Maybe Mac wasn't still coming back from his reflection phase and it was just something he needed Jack to do.

Whatever it was, in hindsight he should have realized that Mac would notice. And he did.

"Jack. What happened?"

"Eh, it's nothing. Just... perks of the job is all."

Jack tried for a smile, but it fell flat.

"What job? Jack, were you in the field without me?"

The question slammed like a freight train into Jack and he had to actually grab something to steady himself, which turned out to be Mac's forearm.

"Whoa, Jack, easy there."

The grip he had on Mac was strong and through the fog in his head Jack was thinking how it'd leave a bruise, the kid bruised so easily he was always having these small bruises from banging himself on doorknobs and table edges. But now these bruises were going to be from Jack, because Jack wasn't able to keep himself steady another way, and that was when Mac appeared in his line of sight and Jack realized he wasn't breathing right.

"Jack, you've got to breathe. Just, follow my lead, okay?"

Jack tried to nod, but he couldn't, he was so far gone in the panic that all he could do was squeeze Mac's arm harder. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, the phantom pain at the back of his head, the nasty concussion it left in its wake.

He watched as Mac winced when he took a deep breath and suddenly Jack wasn't in his apartment, but at the edge of the lake, performing CPR on his partner, oh God, it's so cold...

...

When Jack next came to, he was lying on his couch. He had no idea how he got there, but he realized Mac's thigh was under his head and he jumped with a startle. Then promptly fell back to the softness of his partner's body because his body seized in pain. The actor on that set that insisted on doing his own stunts did a number on him. His bruises had bruises.

And judging by the way he stilled and didn't breathe for a few seconds, and Mac's gasp, Mac definitely noticed.

"I'm going to assume that that did not come from a mission."

"You know I'm off rota until you are back to the field, hoss. I ain't goin' out there unless it's with you. We had a deal, remember?"

"I'm sorry. Sorry I shut you out."

"It's okay. You needed time. I get it."

"I shouldn't have."

"No hard feelings."

"I feel like you are hurt because I wasn't there to stop you from doing whatever reckless thing you did. Jack."

"I was a stunt double on a movie set. Thank God tonight was the final scene and now I can rest."

Jack groaned and any other time he'd be embarrassed that he buried his head in Mac's thigh to hide, but he was tired, hurting and if his mind wasn't playing tricks on him, he had a panic attack, which in his books was definitely something to warrant that kind of behavior.

Besides, Mac could always kick him if he didn't want that.

"Where are you hurt?" Mac's small voice asked and Jack wanted to deflect, but he could detect the hint of worry in the kid's voice so he decided to be honest.

"Where am I not hurt is the question you should be asking. That little punk ass kid that insists on filming his own stunts that we worked with did a number on me. I think I even have a bruise on my butt, dude."

Mac chuckled above him and Jack fist pumped on the inside. He was carefully maneuvered into a sitting position next and - yep, that was definitely a big bruise on his butt.

"Let me see?"

Mac was asking him to see the bruises, that much was clear. And his voice brooked no arguments so Jack took off his t-shirt and realized just how stiff his shoulders were.

God, I am getting old.

Jack let Mac take his fill, he didn't have to see the way he looked to know he suffered a beating. He felt every bruise and every pull on the skin. If he was being honest... it kinda felt like he got what he deserved after what he let happen to Mac and Nikki in Italy. Finding Mac floating in lake Como was one of his worst nightmares come true.

Cold fingers touched his skin and he recoiled, before he realized it was Mac and then he forced himself to relax. Mac needed to make sure that he was okay, and Jack was going to let him.

"Jesus, Jack, this is a beating, not a stunt."

"You should see the other guy."

"Jack."

"It's okay, Mac. I've had worse."

"It doesn't make this hurt any less. C'mon, let's get you to bed. I'll get you some ice."

Jack wanted to protest, how he was going to take care of himself on his own, but Mac needed to see to it that Jack was going to be okay and Jack was going to let him.

"Okay."

Mac, true to his word, settled him into bed and brought ice packs that he MacGyvered into sticking around so as to none of them should hold them in the hurt places. Jack groaned as the cold from the ice seeped into the bruises, but after a while it became a background sensation and he relaxed.

"Thanks, Mac."

"Don't mention it."

They sat in silence for a few moments but Jack needed to know.

"Mac, why are you here? Not that I don't want you here, I'm more than happy to have you here."

"I realized that I was hurting myself and you by keeping a distance. I was caught in the anger and grief about what happened with Nikki and me... being shot. On your watch. I realized that you are pretty much beating yourself up over what happened and decided to stop some of that train of that.

"What I didn't anticipate is you literally beating yourself up. Now that's some quality punishment for things you are not guilty of."

Jack didn't dare look up at Mac, it was enough that Mac knew what Jack was doing.

Talk about self destruction... him and Mac had a lot in common in that department.

"It wasn't your fault. I should have said that before."

"It's-"

"God help me if you say "it's okay". It's not, Jack. I pushed you away. It was as if I was telling you that you pulled the trigger."

Jack winced. Was this kid going to expose all his inner thoughts tonight?

"Sorry, that didn't come out right. Listen, Jack, I'm sorry. It wasn't okay that I pushed you away. It shouldn't be okay that you accept the guilt so easily. You were hurt, too. Remember?"

Jack nodded.

"I'm sorry, too."

They were both dealing with a loss of a friend (lover in Mac's case) and what happened in Italy in different ways. But it looked like they weren't going to do it each by themselves after tonight.

"Can I stay?"

Jack was brought out of his musings and looked at Mac. Really looked at him. The kid looked pale, his cheeks gaunt and he was clutching his left shoulder.

"Huh?"

"Can I stay? I'm... My shoulder is hurting and I have some of my things here so... well I should probably text Bozer and tell him I'm-"

"Of course you can stay."

"Great, uh... let me just go and grab my phone, I left it on the table. And I'll take these now."

Jack shuddered as Mac removed the ice packs, now melted.

"I'll get you a shirt."

A moment later Mac left a shirt on the bed as he went to presumably text Bozer. And Jack smiled when he saw it was one of his old Army t-shirts, loose and comfy. Jack changed into a loose pair of sweatpants and got under the covers, careful not to press too much on the worst bruises. He was going to be sore in the morning.

Mac re-entered Jack's room and Jack could tell he wanted to say something, but was kinda frozen in the middle of the room.

He raised the covers and tapped on the other half of the bed.

"C'mere, hoss. Let's get some sleep."

"I can... I can sleep in the guest room? I could roll over and hurt you, you know how I can get."

"Nonsense. Come in here."

"Okay."

"I think we both need this, so it's a win-win situation."

Mac smiled and as he settled in, he gravitated towards Jack that pulled him to his side.

"I'm so sorry I worried you earlier." Jack could feel the tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.

"It's okay, Jack. I'm just glad I was around."

Jack nodded in agreement and closed his eyes. They could deal with everything else in the morning. He was wiped.

"Good night, Mac."

"Good night, Jack."

#100 drabble challenge #drabble #writing #my writing #my fic #fan fic #prompt number 5 #bruises #tw: panic attack #1x01 filler #jack dalton #angus macgyver #macgyver #macgyver 2016

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orionsangel86 · 4 years ago

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Hey Everyone,

As you have probably noticed, I have neglected this blog for a long time now. I haven’t been on any fandom related social media at all actually. But I figured since I am currently in a good mindset, I want to write a post just outlining some things which basically boils down to a goodbye letter to Supernatural fandom.

Long rambling post below the cut...

This year (and the last) has just taken it out of me in terms of general negativity online both in fandom and in the real world. At first I got tired of fandom (mostly because Twitter is a cesspool of policing and bullying) and then I got tired of everything else (the world sucks right now, and my mental health basically stopped me from being able to participate in any form of online activism – just because I’m not blogging about something, doesn’t mean I don’t support the cause ya know?). Earlier this year, right around the time of the UK lockdowns, I had surgery and a recovery period in which I spent a lot of time with family, and just reacquainted myself with the real world. I think perhaps the coronavirus pandemic made me realise that long before lockdown began I had already been isolating myself from my real life and diving further and further into an online black hole.

It was years in the making. Supernatural fandom preoccupied my thoughts for such a long period of time it got to the point where every moment of my non working time seemed to be spent either online scrolling my tumblr dash or twitter feed, or reading fanfic or doing something fandom related. I invested so much of myself into this show and fandom that I think I forgot who I was before I was a Supernatural fan completely.

After my wake up call in late 2019, which lead me to break free from an extremely nasty clique, I have tried to re-enter fandom on my own terms, as well as attempt to enjoy the source material and the fandom creations to ignite some new spark of love and interest in the show. Yet as much as I have tried, I have failed to do so.

I was thinking recently about someone I used to follow years ago before I ever created a blog. When I was still just lurking in the tumblr shadows and followed the likes of Mittens, Lizbob, and other meta writers of the period, there was a blogger whose name I can’t remember but she was the funniest blogger I had come across. But when the show killed off Charlie Bradbury, she quit. I had never even interacted with her, as I was barely getting my blog started at the time, but I’ll never forget a post she wrote about her feelings on the show. She had recently started watching something else (I think it was Sense8 but can’t recall entirely), and that this new show had given her everything she had never thought she could have from her fave before. She wrote about how her relationship with Supernatural had become abusive. That for years the writers of Supernatural continued to throw punches at fans like her – women, LGBTQ+ people, people of colour, and yet she continued to give it all her time and attention, brushing off the punches because she was so damn devoted to the characters. Then this new show had come along, and it was like she had seen the light. The killing of Charlie Bradbury was the last straw, and she dumped Supernatural’s ass and fled into the arms of her new love.

I hope she is doing fantastically today.

What she wrote has resonated with me for years. I was a fairly new Supernatural fan at the time, and therefore didn’t really understand what she meant. A TV show can’t be abusive. Can it?

Of course, we are speaking in metaphor here, and in no way are these metaphors meant to reduce or limit the truly serious situation of actual abusive relationships, but every now and then, when a new episode of Supernatural has left me feeling upset, disappointed, frustrated and grossly let down, in some cases affecting my mood for days at a time, and therefore my mental health. I have thought back to those words she wrote and quietly agreed with them in my head. Yes. This is a metaphorically abusive relationship.

When I discovered earlier this year that Castiel was most likely going to be killed off in some sort of bullshit self sacrifice before the end of the show, I was extremely distressed. When I found out that my favourite person of all time Misha Collins, supported this ending for Castiel, and may have even been the one who pushed for it, I was more than distressed, I felt betrayed by the person I cared about most. I’ll admit to you all now that in my weakest moments I have fantasized about standing in front of Misha and screaming at him exactly just what kind of affect his “ideal ending” for Castiel will have on his fanbase, on their mental health, and potentially their own safety. This fantasy has me guilt tripping him and doing everything in my power to make him feel utterly shit about the decision. I know what you are thinking – don’t blame Misha, the guy has his own problems and we all know he projects his own self esteem issues onto Cas – and yes, I know this, like I said its only a fantasy to get me through my darkest moments. I don’t hate Misha at all. But perhaps I do love him a little less nowadays than I did back at the height of my fandom life. That’s at least still a little bit more than my feelings for Jensen and Jared which now I can only describe as complete indifference.

I am admitting all of this now knowing full well it will ignite shock and anger among the more die hard fans of J2M, to explain why I need to just leave this fandom completely, or more accurately, why I have already left fandom.

Over the past 10 months of 2020, I have watched a lot of TV (there isn’t much else to do during a lockdown when you are on crutches with your foot in a cast!) and the one thought that occurred to me over and over again was “this show is so much better than Supernatural”.

I kept comparing everything I watched, from the quality of the scripts, the actors, the special effects, to the inclusiveness of the shows. Just so many beautiful and interesting stories that seem to understand their audience, and understand how to entertain and impress without resorting to cringe humour, outdated jokes, and prejudice, not to mention misogyny and queerbaiting – yup, I said it.

The thing is, I think these thoughts have been creeping over me slowly for longer than just this year, but I have been desperately batting them away the way Dean Winchester bats away his own gay thoughts. Unlike Dean though, eventually I couldn’t ignore them anymore. I cannot continue to carve out space in my own soul for this show, which incessantly beats me down regardless of my devotion. The creators, the network, the writers, and sometimes even the cast, have all shown that they don’t care about me as a fan. I’m not some gun toting dudebro living in middle America, so why should they give a damn about me? I’m clearly not their target audience, nor have I ever been.

I know many of you will vehemently deny my personal opinion of Supernatural now. That is absolutely fine. I am sorry to be admitting it, but I had to. I feel like once I finally write out these words, I have got it off my chest and can close and lock the door on Supernatural for good.

Without Supernatural, I am able to focus on my real life, I am able to find pleasure in other things, new things, interesting things, that bring me joy and joy alone – not disappointment and frustration. I found a new job this year, which has been a huge accomplishment as I was stagnating in my old one, and several new hobbies under my belt. I moved to a new flat, I have a lovely flatmate who has been a godsend throughout lockdown, and I have rekindled friendships that I was neglecting due to my Supernatural obsession.

All in all, I am finding post-Supernatural life far more rewarding and content than my life in fandom. It has taken me a while, but I am over the show. And whilst I will always hold a special place in my heart for Castiel, it will be as I know him in my own mind; as the wonderful, strong, powerful and determined angel with a soul, who loves so strongly, and who is worth so much more than his own creators give him credit for. He is up there with Aziraphale and Crowley, with The Doctor, and Buffy, as one of the greatest characters of all time.

So the Supernatural writers and creators can take whatever ending they have decided upon, and shove it up their asses. I am sorry to say that Sam and Dean Winchester are also lost to me. Any love I had for them was destroyed by their later season depictions. Castiel alone is the only character worthy of that space in my heart now. If in time he longs for a companion, I will find one for him, but it won’t be the Dean Winchester of the canon show. Canon Dean hasn’t been deserving of Cas for a long time now.

Perhaps I am still a little bitter about the ending. Perhaps the finale won’t be the disaster I expect it to be, perhaps Dabb will somehow turn it all around last minute following whatever travesty Bucklemming have given us in 15x19. Either way, I won’t be watching.

So this is me saying goodbye to this blog, at least until I have decided what else to do with it. It certainly won’t be a Supernatural fandom blog anymore. It wasn’t all wasted though. I did get a wonderful friendship group out of this fandom, and I have certainly expanded my knowledge of film and television analysis, as well as having enjoyed a great many memes.

I guess in the end, my internal war with my inner bitter Cas girl finished with her winning, and writing this post. Once it is posted however, I will put her to sleep with thoughts of a happy Castiel, who has swapped his wings for a beating human heart, and is living on a beach somewhere beautiful, refurbishing an old Victorian house, and greeting his kindly elderly neighbours. There’s a gay bar on the main strip, and the bartender is quite a dish. Green eyes and light brown hair with a killer smile. Castiel thinks he looks familiar, like a memory from a past life, but they’ve definitely never met, because this man is kind.

Now that she is asleep, there is nothing left for me here. Goodbye everyone. Whether you manage to enjoy the finale or not, I truly hope you too, find your peace.

#personal #a goodbye message to fandom

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somerandomstrayemo · 4 years ago

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This is my story off of wattpad that I had just decided to put here, do not repost, if I see this story anywhere else I will ask you to take it down, thank you :)

_____________________________________________

Prompt: Virgil lends their sweater to Remus. When Remus is home, he realizes he still has Virgil's sweater and finds Virgil's iPod. Out of curiosity, Remus looks through Virgil's music and finds a playlist titled with Remus's name..

Virgil sat comfortably on the couch, casually scrolling through Instagram (yes, FINALLY, something other than Tumblr-). He hadn't had much to do that day since Patton was out getting things for a movie night, Roman was writing the script for a new video, and Logan was out with Patton, probably just out and about to resupply on crofters since he was running low on them.

It was mid February, and due to the climate in Florida it was still quite cold to say the least. Though Virgil didn't mind the freezing temperature due to the fact he almost always wore his black and purple sweater, he seemed almost unfazed by the somewhat cold atmosphere.

Around the evening is when the anxious trait heard light shuffling behind him and he quickly spun around from his position on the couch, only to spot a seemingly freezing Remus that previously planned on pouncing on him. "Remus? What are you doing here?" Virgil asked, as it wasn't very common for the dark sides to just come along particularly unannounced like that. "Oh the heater part thing in the air conditioner broke over on the dark side and Janus won't let me use his heat coil thingy, so I thought it'd be warmer here, and surprise surprise, it's FUCKING not~" Remus seemed to be speaking in an utterly annoyed an sarcastic tone. Virgil rolled his eyes and tucked away his ear buds, propping his arms up on the back of the couch. "Huh, that sucks now doesn't it" The emo said, still completely unfazed by the situation.

Remus looked Virgil up and down in complete shock. He wasn't shivering, and was acting as though everything was fine. The intrusive side then scoffed and crossed his arms, developing a somewhat snarky attitude towards the smaller side. "How the hell are you so okay with this, it's fucking freezing here! Are you immune or something?!" Remus wasn't very pleased. Virgil made it look so simple and easy to just ignore the cold, it was almost like the emo was taunting him. "Relax Remus, I just have a really thick sweater on. Here, if it makes you feel any better, would you like to borrow it?" Virgil tried to be kind to Remus, as he hated conflict between sides and wasn't one to want to get involved. In fact, Virgil did this willingly, he'd do anything just to see Remus smile just once. It was just a little temperature, how bad could it possibly be?

Remus stared at the emo like he was being taunted once more, but then eased up a bit, seeing there was no signs of mockery in his soft expression. Remus simply gave in, un-crossing his arms and giving a small nod, watching as Virgil then took off his sweater and handed it over.

Remus seemed so happy as he quickly grabbed the sweater and put it on. Though Remus was enjoying himself, this was a decision that Virgil very quickly regret as a cold draft of air hit him like a bus. God it was freezing, yet he plastered a smile on his face as not to let Remus worry. "Thanks emo, this thing really is warm!" Remus said in an almost happy tone. It was rare that Virgil ever saw Remus happy like this since he was mostly intrusive, so like any other side would, he took it all in while he still could. "You're welcome dude, I didn't want you dying from hypothermia, you looked like an angry ice cube." The emo smirked, using his little remark to distract himself from the cold atmosphere. Remus laughed, something Virgil just loved to see, thank god his pale foundation was covering his slightly red face. Though Remus could clearly see how satisfied Virgil was by the decision, and leaned forward, placing and gentle kiss on the freezing emo's face, causing the anxious trait to tense up. "I have to go now Virge, and seriously, thanks for the sweater, I promise I'll give it back" Remus stated happily as he then quickly sunk out. Who's to say he probably snuck out while Janus was distracted, he didn't even give Virgil a chance to speak before he left.

After about a week had past, Virgil had ended up borrowing one of Patton's sweaters, as morality had plenty, so yeah it wasn't his usual style, but at least he was fairly warm. After all, only a few hours after Remus left the week before was when the light sides soon discovered that their air conditioning had broke as well. Back with the dark sides however, Janus had been trying to get Remus to confess on where he had gotten that sweater all week, but as time went on, he had eventually given up. Around this time, Remus was in his room playing around with his mace, he honestly had no intention on giving Virgil his sweater back, as he loved it like his own, but he knew the sad truth was that he had to give it up sooner or later.

As the intrusive side swung hos mace one last time, A small object fell out of the pocket of Virgil's sweater. Remus stopped all he was doing and set his mace aside, picking up the object only to discover it was a dark purple iPod with Virgil's name on it. Being curious, Remus conjured some headphones and plugged them into it, starting to look through his playlists he had saved:

"P!ATD? Of course he would"

"Huh, I..guess.. Billie Eilish makes sense..?"

"ugh, and I think Lofi music would be for his panic attacks, I still wouldn't listen to that"

"AVIVA, again, of course he would."

"MCR, yep, That's Virgil alright, it's sad he only has like 2 songs in this playlist"

Remus went on and on over the playlists, until he came across one that caught his eye, 'reminds me of Remus'. No way the anxious trait really had a playlist dedicated to him, right? Remus clicked the playlist and immediately saw a song that captured his main personality, the one that he used around Virgil:

'Green' by cavetown

Remus had closed the iPod immediately and sighed, he realized the only reason Virgil gave up his sweater was because he cared for Remus, and you know what, that wasn't what Remus had thought at all, he simply thought the emo pitied him, nothing more. Turns out the emo really did like him back after all.

Remus acted quickly, playing a recording of him messing around in his room and locked the door so he could sneak out unnoticed. Once he'd done that he quickly sunk out, hoping Virgil was in his room, and to his relief, he was. Virgil was laying peacefully in his bed, curled up under his blankets, and the room completely silent apart from his very light snoring which Remus had found adorable. Virgil slept in often as he barely got any sleep once the sun set. The intrusive aspect guessed that he fell asleep around 4am today, and he only needed an hour of sleep, but it seemed as though he decided to sleep in the one day Remus decided to confront him.

Instead of waking the emo, Remus had decided to be very quiet and get in bed next to him. If Virgil truly loved Remus, then surely he wouldn't mind.

It had only been a few hours before Virgil woke up, a strong and warm embrace wrapped around his small figure. It had only took him a moment to realize he wasn't alone, quickly turning to look up at who had broken into his room; "Remus.." The younger gently whispered, causing Remus to flutter his eyes open and smile to the small anxious trait in his arms.

Virgil had to admit, he was loving every second of this, he simply looked up at Remus, frozen in silence. He had so many questions; why was he here? How long had he been there? And most importantly, did he even want to be this close to someone like himself. As Virgil's mind trailed off, he felt a pair of lips capture his as he felt his waist was being strattled. The emo didn't resist nor comply, he simply screwed his eyes shut, a few small tears falling from them. Oh how he dreamed of this, how he wanted nothing but to be loved like this.. He'd been longing for someone to love him back...

The kiss lingered for a moment before being broken, Remus placing a hand against the emo's cheek. It was firm, yet so gentle and loving. The intrusive side then used his thumb to wipe away any tears Virgil had, and gave a comforting smile "why didn't you tell me sooner Virgil" he asked kindly, a tone that Virgil rarely ever got to hear. "I was scared.. You'd reject me.." He spoke with pure honesty, and slight guilt for not telling sooner, after all he was the embodiment of fear and anxiety. Though nevertheless, who could stay upset at a face like Virgil's?

Remus chuckled as he sat up, scooping up the smaller trait and placing him in his lap and peppering his face with kisses. "it's okay now love, you don't need to hide it from me anymore, I've got you" Remus sighed out, reassuring Virgil that he had absolutely nothing to be afraid of. A beautiful moment of silence quickly followed those words, and Virgil almost immediately fell asleep in Remus's arms after that. He hadn't felt this loved and relaxed in god knows how long since he was always careful and on edge. It was a wonderful feeling, so great that it put him to sleep. Remus simply chuckled once more, laying his new lover back down as he took his place beside the younger trait, wrapping his arms around Virgil as he then too, drifted off to sleep.

Words: 1694

Sanity: 100%, this was beautiful

My sleep schedule: it's 1am and I have school, so idk, you tell me- :/

#sanders sides fluff #remus sanders #virgil sanders #original story #wattpad #dukexiety

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zmediaoutlet · 4 years ago

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in support of wildfire relief, @peromy-march donated $10 and requested Gabriel/Kevin, fluff & tickling. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post. (no longer taking prompts)

After a 'dinner' that had consisted of half a Reese's cheesecake, a shared pint of coffee Haagen-Dazs, and three vodka-soaked mudslides, Kevin wonders if it's possible to be drunk on sugar. There are a lot of chemicals working on his body right now; it seems like it could be a thing. Or he's just drunk. Or he's just having a sugar high. It's all very hard to tell.

"Did you know you get very quiet when you're gestating a food baby?" Gabriel says.

"I don't think food babies gestate," Kevin says. He rolls his head to the side and Gabriel's watching him, clearly entertained. "They just, like… digest. You're not supposed to digest babies."

"Well, maybe you aren't," Gabriel says, and Kevin makes a face at him. He was probably supposed to make a face, judging by how much bigger Gabriel's grin gets. He walks into this stuff, all the time. It'd be more annoying if he hadn't just decided to give up. Gabriel's an archangel, and even if he seems to be an archangel of screwing around, he's just… always gonna win. Kevin's okay with it. Mostly. Except when his gut feels as sore as this.

"I think the ice cream was a bad idea," Kevin says.

"Now that is blasphemy," Gabriel says, sitting up. He executes a sloppy sign of the cross in the air above Kevin's prone body. "Say forty-two Hail Marys, get an exorcist. No, wait, don't get an exorcist, the ones you'd call are six foot twenty and absolutely no fun."

Kevin snorts, can't help it. Even that jostles his belly, though, and he groans, flopping over onto his side. "Seriously," he says, "I'm gonna pop."

Gabriel leans in, his chin on his hand. "Tell me before you do, sweetcheeks," he says, unrepentant and smiling. "I don't want any prophet goop in my hair."

Kevin sighs, cupping his sore tummy. Gabriel really ought to feel more guilty except that, according to Dean at least, archangels didn't understand the concept of guilt. That might be true—Sam hadn't rolled his eyes, like he usually did when Dean dropped an aphorism—but either way, Gabriel could at least fake it. All of this was his idea. It's not like it's Kevin's fault that he's lactose intolerant. When cheesecake came up, it wasn't Kevin's fault that he'd never had any. When Gabriel's eyes lit up and he said, strange harmonics in his voice, you haven't?, it wasn't Kevin's fault that he got whisked away on angel wings to some random grocery store, and saddled with a shopping basket, and ordered to follow an unimaginably powerful idiot around like a long-suffering servant. He'd been promised over and over that angel powers would somehow put the lactose intolerance at bay. It may have, but now he's got other problems.

A warm hand settles on his belly, above where he's protectively holding it. "Okay, kiddo, you gotta be straight with me," Gabriel says. Kevin squints at him with one eye. "Cheesecake. How did it measure up? In the scheme of things."

"It was good," Kevin admits. "But it's going to kill me. Then you guys are just going to have to find another prophet, okay. You can visit me in heaven but if I die because of dairy desserts, I quit."

Gabriel hums. "You know, that's fair," he says, and Kevin drops his eye closed again, and sinks into the bed.

He has no idea where they are. Sam and Dean are probably going nuts—well, mostly Dean. Kevin's meant to be working on the tablet, and Gabriel's supposed to be helping, and there are probably lives on the line. There are always lives on the line. Wherever Gabriel flew them to, it's cold outside, and the hotel they're in is kinda shabby but the bed's soft, and Kevin's warm, and tired, and… sore, but at least it's sore for this reason and not because he got the crap kicked out of him by demons, so. It could be worse.

The hand on his belly moves in a slow, soft circle. "Poor little guy," Gabriel says, quietly. "All tuckered out."

"I'm not a puppy," Kevin mumbles. The hand on his belly feels nice.

"Says the puppy," Gabriel says, and Kevin sighs but Gabriel's still petting his belly, and it's nice. Comforting. The bed shifts and then there's warmth at his back, and the hand starts a steady, oh-so-gentle massage. Soothing. He tips his head and there's a tiny tickle of breath at the back of his ear. A little laugh. The hand drags up to his chest, and down again, petting him practically through his t-shirt, and Kevin basically melts into the bed. All those mudslides, it feels easy to melt.

He's maneuvered, a little. He lets it happen. His head pillowed on a deceptively strong arm; his arms tucked up out of the way, in front of him. His shirt—disappeared?—but strange things happen around Gabriel and a disappearing shirt certainly wouldn't be the weirdest thing this week. Let alone today. Just means the warm, soothing tummy-rub he's getting feels all the more warm and soothing, and he tips his face into Gabriel's bicep, tangles his fingers into Gabriel's other hand. Soft squeeze, there, and then a squeeze low on his belly. He makes a little protesting sound and gets a tiny pinch, on his hip. "Be good," Gabriel says, and, duh, Kevin's always good.

He stays still, though. Doesn't object. Gabriel hums, some song Kevin doesn't know because he doesn't really know anything that's not in the Yo Yo Ma catalogue, and his hand slips from Kevin's belly to his back. Dexterous fingertips start tracing shapes over his bare skin and he shivers, at first, since it's so unexpected, but it feels—nice. A little ticklish, a little odd, but nice. Gabriel's voice is deeper than he would've thought, humming. The fingertips trace over his shoulderblades, his spine. His neck, bent forward, and that's sensitive, makes him shiver again. Gabriel's finger gets a little firmer—a poked dot, and another next to it, and then a dragged semi-circle below them—smiley face, traced into his back. He giggles.

"Hey, there he is," Gabriel says, and Kevin presses his smile into Gabriel's arm. Gabriel draws more shapes, featherlight, but Kevin can't tell what most of them are meant to be. One's a cat, he thinks, but for the rest, they could be enochian script or norse runes or penis drawings. Most likely the last, considering who he's with, but then every once in a while Gabriel shows depths. Well. One depth. At least a shallow ditch, sometimes.

"Hey, puppy," Gabriel whispers, against the back of his ear.

That's sensitive, too. Kevin huffs, sleepy. "What?"

"How's that tummy feeling?"

Oh. He kind of forgot, in how nice his back is feeling. He stretches out and sighs, feeling liquid. "Better," he says, and Gabriel says, "Good," and tangles his fingers around Kevin's, and then pinches his side, hard.

"Ah!" Kevin yelps. All those nerves jump and yelp with him. "Oh—you dick!"

"No idea what you're talking about," Gabriel says, and locks Kevin's hands in his unnaturally strong grip and then flutters the fingers of his other hand over the soft skin on Kevin's ribs, setting everything to twitching, making Kevin laugh helplessly.

"Stop it," he hiccups, but Gabriel hooks his leg over Kevin's too, trapping him completely on his side, and sets to work: tickling his ribs, his hip, goosing his butt, making Kevin jump and yelp and make just the dorkiest dumbest noises.

"You want me to stop?" Gabriel says, still pinching and tweaking and flickering his nails torturously light, and Kevin's shuddering but he chatters out, "If you d-don't I'm gonna pee the bed," and Gabriel says, completely delighted, "Oh, puppy," and in a quick flip Kevin's on his back, his hands pinned above his head and Gabriel straddling his hips, and Kevin's got tears in his eyes from laughing but he can still see the grin on Gabriel's face.

"You suck," Kevin manages, trying to catch his breath.

"Only my favorites," Gabriel says, and Kevin's probably flushed already but he knows he gets redder, because that's—jeez.

He's getting more of that steady amusement. He has no idea why Gabriel finds him—he doesn't even know if interesting is the word. He feels like a toy, a little bit. Something Gabriel like playing with. A puppy, he thinks, and he really is red, now, feels like his face is flaming from forehead to chest.

Fingers tap down the middle of his chest to his belly. He tenses, expecting more tickles, but Gabriel just flattens his hand there, where Kevin's still a little swollen from all the sugar but at least doesn't hurt. His eyes are so strange. Pretty, kind of. That strange color, like the bourbon Dean's always drinking, but in the lamplight in here they're basically gold. Kevin tugs his hands, asking, and Gabriel lets go, watching his face. Kevin licks his lips and touches Gabriel's thighs, carefully. He's still all dressed—jeans, and a t-shirt advertising something called Wally World, and a dark brown overshirt that Kevin wishes he'd take off. It's hard, though, to ask for that. Kevin doesn't even know what he wants, when it comes to that. But—Gabriel's weirdly entertained by him, and weirdly indulgent, and so he says, trying to sound confident, "Do that thing to my back again," and when Gabriel raises his eyebrows: "It—felt nice."

"Oh, he's demanding now, is he?" Gabriel says, and Kevin shrugs. He gets a sort of bow—hard to bow, when you're straddling someone, but Gabriel manages it—and a florid, goofy, "The prophet's wish is my command," and while he's still rolling his eyes Gabriel lifts higher, on his knees, and sets his hands on Kevin's waist. He gets flipped shockingly fast, right there so he's flat on his front, and his belly presses a little uncomfortably against the bed, but a pillow appears beneath him and he folds his arms around it, pressing his cheek down with a sigh. That's better. That's—perfect.

Gabriel resettles, his thighs on either side of Kevin's hips and his weight settled right on Kevin's ass. It feels… good. Kevin tries not think about it any more detail than that.

Light fingers settle on his shoulderblades, gently tickling, lighting the nerves under his skin. "Okay," Gabriel says, quietly, tracing unknown shapes across his back. "Operation cheesecake was a success, I'd say. Next time I kidnap you, we'll go cheese tasting."

Kevin's melting again, but he frowns at that, and turns his head to peek over his shoulder. "People go cheese-tasting?" he says, dubious. There's an affronted sound, and a mad light appears in Gabriel's eye. Kevin bites his tongue, too late. Well, shit. He's going to have to call Sam, somehow. Apparently work on the tablet won't be starting up again, right away.

#fffr #gabriel/kevin #kevriel #apparently #in addition to the tickling #there's like--the fluffiest powerplay #a hint of d/s #a soupcon of feeder kink #but mainly fluff

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nekoabiwrites · 5 years ago

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Headache

I had an idea after @not-so-innocent-bi-sander was talking about a headache she had and how it was making it even harder for her to write something. And then... I did this!

AU: None Pairing: None Words: 2164 Warnings: Mentions of Deceit and Remus, Roman being trapped in his room. Anything else, please let me know!

Summary: Thomas has a headache and it’s obvious to all of the sides the moment they wake up. This has the most impact on Creativity...

---

When Patton awoke early in the day and found the walls of his room pulsing slightly, he was already aware that his plans for breakfast were going to have to change. He got ready and made his way to their shared kitchen in order to prepare food for breakfast.

Logan was the first to join him, as per usual. He set the work he intended to complete on the table and took a seat before speaking, “Patton, I feel I tell you this every day. We are simple manifestations of Thomas’ realised personality traits. We do not require food.”

Patton simply grinned and responded as normal, “Come on, Logan! Don’t be such a spoil sport! Eating is fun and gives us all time to spend together!”

The logical side pinched the bridge of his nose, “Patton. You and I are both aware that our usual arrangement will be impossible today. Why do you continue such a frivolous event on such a day?”

Patton set down the utensil in his hand and turned to face Logan, his hands on his hips as he sternly addressed him, though the attempt at striking fear into the logical side was offset by the flower-patterned apron that adorned his body. “Because it’s important for us all to spend time together, even if one of us can’t join.” His face softened considerably as he leant on the counter that looked out through the wall to the table, “Come on, Lo. I know you enjoy it, no need to hide it.”

Logan’s cheeks flushed and he turned to the diary in front of him. “That is impossible and highly unfounded. You have no evidence to prove such a claim.”

“Oh? Don’t I?” Patton teased.

“What?!” The pen was dropped in surprise, Logan’s eyes widening in shock. “You must be bluffing.”

“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t like it!” Patton said in a sing-song voice, returning to the breakfast at hand.

Logan was left gaping. His mouth opened and closed several times before he turned back to the work he had before him on the table, not offering a counter-argument to Patton’s. It definitely wasn’t that he was conceding to Patton’s idea, he just had a lot of work to do today. Plans were changing for today and everything needed to be rescheduled, something which he was reminded off by the incessant pulsing of the walls around them both.

Eventually, another body joined him at the table. Logan didn’t even have to turn his attention away from his work to know who it was as the body slumped over the table top, “Good morning, Virgil. I take it you didn’t sleep well?” An answering grunt was all the response he got before the room fell back into it’s previous quiet.

Patton soon came out and placed plates of food before each of the other sides, taking Logan’s diary and Virgil’s phone from their hands as he did so. “Now, both of you eat and then you’ll get your things back.” Patton playfully scolded them.

“You’re not actually our dad, y’know?” Virgil mumbled through his mouthful of food as Patton returned with his own plate.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full, Virgil. It’s rude.” Patton scolded once more, ignoring the other side’s question in favour of reinforcing his perceived role. It got Virgil to smirk and shake his head, which was enough for Patton to break out into a wide grin.

The rest of breakfast went as normal as possible, though without a certain presence it was far quieter and relaxed than usual. Everyone finished and Virgil assisted Patton in clearing up the plates, while Logan got back to work on his scheduling. Just as the three dirty plates were placed in the sink, Patton took off the apron he was still wearing and grabbed a plate that had been left on the kitchen side. “Virgil, do you mind washing up while I take this over to him?”

The anxious side shrugged and grunted affirmatively in response, already running the tap to fill up the sink. Patton gave him a one-armed hug before heading out over to their missing side’s room.

“Roman? Are you awake?” Patton called out softly as he approached.

A soft laugh caught his ears before Roman came into view, “Of course, I am, padre. Thank you for coming to see me.”

“Of course, Roman! I wouldn’t leave you alone all day, especially without breakfast!” Patton held out the plate, pushing it through the letterbox shaped gap in the bars that had replaced Roman’s door.

Roman immediately put on his regular dramatics, “Oh, Patton! I thought I would starve without your assistance! How kind of you to still think of me as I am trapped by my own door!” In the midst of it all, he took the plate from Patton’s hands and put it upon his desk, taking his chair and begun to eat.

Patton sat, cross-legged, outside the prison-like bars that currently trapped Roman within his room and watched as the creative side ate. This wasn’t exactly a common occurrence, but it was something they’d dealt with before. Anytime Thomas’ headaches were strong enough to affect the physical nature of their ‘realm’, this happened. Roman was trapped behind bars, essentially locked away from the rest of them. It was almost as though this headache was trapping Thomas’ creativity away from him. This was even easier to prove than any of them had thought as, after a few times of this happening, Deceit came to them to ask a question – something not so out of the ordinary itself.

He mentioned how, during times like this, Remus was locked away behind bars (something Virgil found highly amusing and endeavoured to make the most of the intrusive side’s misfortune) and couldn’t access much of his usual power. Deceit simply wanted to know if the same thing happened to Roman, as he had come to the same conclusion as the others. Upon confirmation, the news was spread to Roman who was very unhappy with the development.

“Fantastic! Brilliant! Just utterly wonderful! Another thing for us to share!” He’d complained, throwing his arms every which way in frustration.

But now, they were all fairly used to it. Patton brought him food at every meal time and sat with him, to make sure he wasn’t alone. He loved his Fam-ILY so much and couldn’t bear the thought of any of them eating alone, especially since they’d always eaten together. Roman seemed to feel guilt from Patton’s actions as every time, without fail, he said the same thing.

“You don’t have to sit with me, Patton. I will be more than fine eating alone.”

Patton smiled warmly when Roman said it once again. He rested his arms behind his body and uncrossed his legs, swinging his feet back and forth playfully, “Come on, Roman. You know I don’t want you eating alone. Anyway, I love spending time with you! That’s why I’m here!” The small twitchy smile that Roman shot him before going back to eating was enough to keep Patton there every time. Roman didn’t want to be eating alone. He wanted the company. He just felt he wasn’t worth Patton’s time, but Patton wanted to make sure that Roman understood he was worth all the attention and time Patton could possibly give him.

Later, after Patton had returned to the kitchen with Roman’s empty plate, Roman was laying in his bed. He had a book of scripts open on his pillows and he was flicking through, reading and memorising certain parts that he thought Thomas would be perfect for. Then a knock on the wall disturbed him and had Roman getting himself up from the bed.

“Afternoon, Roman.”

“Uh, hello Logan. What brings you to my cell today?” Roman was visibly shocked to see the logical side standing before his doorway.

Logan adjusted his glasses absent-mindedly, “I wanted to discuss some changes of Thomas’ schedule with you, as they do pertain to your, uh… responsibilities.”

“Oh, um, of course! I would offer to let you in, but obviously I cannot so…” Roman trailed off, unsure of what to do. He couldn’t do anything to affect the outside area, and he could barely do anything in his room either. All his powers that concerned creation were practically gone during this time, so it wasn’t as if he could offer Logan a seat or anything.

But then Logan walked off with a curt nod. Roman tried to follow where he went, but lost track once Logan turned out of view of his limited field of vision. He pouted and stared at the metal bars with contempt, considering how hard they could possibly be and if he would be able to destroy them, until Logan returned. He was holding a chair.

The seat was set down just before the bars and Logan took his place, setting the diary open on his lap. He began to speak but stopped once he looked at the still-standing prince behind the bars. “Well, aren’t you going to join me?” Roman scrambled over to his desk chair and set it opposite Logan’s, seating himself and beginning the talk with the logical side which lasted for a good couple of hours.

Once they’d just finished and Logan was still in view, retreating with the chair in his arms, Virgil passed by and stopped to stare through the bars at Roman, who turned and caught the anxious side’s gaze. He pouted and placed his hands upon his hips, cocking one of them, “What? Come to stare at the caged animal, have you? Come to gawk at the prisoner?”

Virgil shrugged and crossed his own arms, smirking, “Maybe. So what if I did?”

Roman’s arms flew up and his hands pressed to his chest as he gasped loudly. He threw his head to the side dramatically and kept his gaze away from Virgil, “How horrid! Virgil, I thought you better than some villain who would find glee in watching a trapped man pace and fret inside a cage?!” When he got no response, Roman turned his attention back to side outside his room.

Virgil simply stood there, an eyebrow raised and an amused smirk still pulling at his lips. “Are you done yet?”

“NO!” Roman screamed before launching back into a dramatic monologue of all the hardships he was facing as he was trapped behind the bars, how limited his powers and life were and how he was utterly distraught and ruined at the thought of the side he considered such a good friend finding humour in his situation. All throughout, Roman would pose a question to Virgil, which was always responded to with sarcasm and seemingly harsh words, which prompted more and more from the creative side.

At the end of it all, Roman was knelt down on the floor, his head hung and hands holding up his body weight as he pretending to weep, still bemoaning his situation. Virgil was crouched outside, hands on his knees, watching. Then, Roman lifted his head and adjusted his hair so it was back to its normal position as he sat back against his legs, “Okay, now I’m done.”

“Finally.” Virgil snorted, dropping to sit with his legs bent before him. “I thought you’d never stop. I mean, how many ways can you even say, ‘I’m stuck in my room’? Like, dude… that was actually kinda impressive…”

“I have many talents, Virgil. One is my impr-” Roman started.

“inability to shut up?” Virgil cut in, his smirk returning as Roman, once again, gasped in indignation. This started the two of them off on yet another playful banter session, passing the time.

During the entire day, the walls had slowly been calming down. The pulsing was getting harder and harder to notice, until it was practically imperceptible around the time they usually ate dinner. Patton had prepared all four plates, as usual, and was just about to place three of them down on the dining room table when he heard his phone vibrating on the counter. He flipped it open in order to read the text from Virgil and almost squealed in delight upon reading it. All four plates along with glasses and tableware were piled onto a tray and carried out of the room.

That evening, dinner was spent outside Roman’s room, with all four of the sides present. Roman had tried to convince them all that it was unnecessary, that he was fine eating alone or just with Patton, that they didn’t need to do it for him. But each protest was met with phrases such as “Don’t worry about it, Princey. It’s not just for you.” or “It’s not that we think you need us to, it’s that we want to , Roman!”

It was the start of a new tradition and, the next day, when the bars were down, each of them received the largest, strongest hug they’d had in their lives.

---

My other stuff: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/myworks Mobile Accessible Masterlist: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/post/181954641376/fic-masterlist

General Tag List: @not-so-innocent-bi-sander @didsomeonesayprince @llamaly @justanotherpurplebutterfly @iaminmultiplefandoms @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @lowkeyvirgilobsessed @louisthewarlock @fangsandrainbows @xxladystarlightxx @sleepyssnail @ao-koshka @notalwaysthevillian @pumpkinminette @doces-e--tuga @coloursintheblur @safesandersides

#Sanders Sides #Fanfiction #Roman Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Logan Sanders #Patton Sanders #Deceit Sanders #Remus Sanders #Creativity Sanders #Anxiety Sanders #Logic Sanders #Morality Sanders #Headache

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littlesliceofmarvel · 5 years ago

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Manipulating a God | chpt. one

Request/Synopsis: Trying to break the information out of Loki during the attack of 2012 wasn’t exactly the easiest task, but it was a challenge you were willing to take head on. So, what happened when a master manipulator tried to get information from the God of Mischief?

Series warnings: Swearing, mentions of violence, blood and gore

Pairings: Stark!Reader x Loki

A/N: So, this story takes place during the Avengers (2012) but with my own twist. The story will be slightly different but following the main plot line of the film, so the dialogue won’t follow the script exactly. I really hope you guys enjoy it! xoxoxox

Since the day you were born, you had carried the infamous name Stark, which came with a lot of expectation. Having grown up with a dad who was never around, and a mother who tried her best to resolve your family’s issues, you had turned to your older brother for any kind of advice or support, practically guilt tripping him into letting you do everything with him. He was smart - way beyond smart, actually - and all you wanted was to be the same as him. He inspired you, he was the ideal brother.

When your parents died in a car crash, Tony immediately stepped up and helped raise you to be tough, smart, strong-willed, and determined. You knew these were practically some of the only traits that you and Tony shared in common. While he flaunted his wealth, brains and charm, you tended to hide in the shadows. Years after your parents deaths, the two of you became very distant.

While Tony had decided to help build the company, you opted out, wanting nothing do with it. He was mad, furious even, that you left it in his hands and ‘abandoned’ the Stark family legacy, but part of him respected your decision. He took over with Pepper Potts and they managed it well for years and years - until of course, Tony Stark officially announced himself as Iron Man.

Your big brother - the man who would fill a mug with marshmallows and put in the microwave to watch it blow up when you were younger - he was now a world-renowned superhero. And you were just his sister.

With the amount of times Tony faced enemies and dangers, you had decided to step up and do something. Being persuasive was your skill - the one thing you took from your last name. You had developed the handy manipulation tactic with the amount of times you had to go rescue or find your brother from the countless kidnappers and crazed anti-fans. Finally, the duo of Tony and Y/N Stark was back together, and although you didn’t have any sort of metallic suit with blasters, only the tactical one Tony designed you, you did have your big brother on your side again. And that was all you could ask for.

So now, as Shield Agent Phil Coulson stood in your living room telling you about some out-of-galaxy man with a glowing blue cube who wanted to take over the planet, you couldn’t help but think of Tony.

“Thanks, um, Coulson, I’m just gonna - I gotta make a call,” you politely dismissed yourself and ran into your room, shutting the door behind you in a panic. You pulled your phone and clicked on Tony’s name.

“Come on, pick up, pick up,” you mumbled, and when he finally picked up, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Y/N?” He sounded confused by your call, which made you wonder if he even knew about what Coulson had told you.

“Tony! There’s something happening, um, this guy is going to attack? Or something? I don’t know, Coulson -”

“I know.” Tony sighed, “He came by not too long ago. I’ve got all the files here.”

You let out a deep breath - of course Tony knew already.

“Alright, I’ll stop by,” you hung up before he could reply and opened your door, facing an awkward-looking Phil Coulson who was rocking back and forth on the heels of his shoes.

“Hi,” you breathed out, speed walking out of your room, “Here’s the thing - I gotta go see Tony, um, we need to talk, you know. Thanks for coming by and letting me know,” you opened the front door and turned to face him, “Take care, and uh, say hi to Fury for me.”

Coulson started to walk towards the door, slightly befuddled, “Are you going to join or..?”

You sighed, pretending to think it over, “I need to talk to Tony, this is serious.”

This seemed to be a decent answer for him so he gave you a curt nod, adjusting his tie and walking out of the door. You shut it behind him and waited for the elevator to go down before you grabbed your car keys and a jacket.

Picking up an apple off the kitchen counter while putting on your shoes, you struggled to make your way out of the door but you eventually did, locking it behind you and taking a bite from your fruit.

You made your way to the carpark and found your car, hopping into the comfortable seat and starting the engine, taking off towards Stark tower. It wasn’t a long drive, you had a decent apartment right along Central Park, but it had been a while since you stepped foot in there so part of you wasn’t sure what to expect.

Turning off the radio, the constant hum of the engine being your soundtrack, you began to really think about what Coulson had said. You had always believed in life outside of Earth, but coming face to face with a danger like this was undoubtedly out of your paygrade. You had been approached by Nick Fury a few years back about forming a team of Earth’s mightiest defenders, called the Avengers Initiative - and if you were being truthful, this seemed like the right time for this to come into action.

The lights of Stark Tower caught your eye as you half-hazardly parked out front, rushing into the building and making your way up to Tony’s living space. As you reached his floor, he practically didn’t even notice your presence, too captivated by the hologram files he was looking over.

“Tony,” you announced your presence, making him jump, “So, what’s the deal?”

“Hm?” Tony turned to face you, “Yeah, not our problem.” With the swipe of his hand, the files had all disappeared into thin air. Rolling your eyes, you walked over to him, dropping the apple core in the garbage as you did so.

“How is this not our problem?” You crossed your arms, looking towards where the files once were.

“Remember when Fury asked us to join his uh, boyband thing?” Tony waved his arms through the air as if replaying the memory.

“Yes.”

“Well, I told him we wouldn’t do it,” Tony muttered, walking over to the bar to pour himself a drink.

“You what?!” You stomped over to him, taking the glass out of his hands and placing it harshly on the marble countertop, “Tony! You swore that as Iron Man you’d be this, ‘protector of mankind’ or some shit. And then the opportunity comes up for you to become a legit superhero and you say no? And you decide this for me too?”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Y/N-”

You cut him off, “It is a huge deal. Tony, listen, you gave yourself this amazing opportunity to help people - you’re world known, for god’s sake. I don’t have any special abilities or the brains to do what you do - I’’m just me,” you lowered your voice slightly, knowing you were getting to him, “This Avengers thing was my only chance at getting to help people, I wanted to do it.”

Tony sighed dramatically and you internally grinned, knowing your guilt-tripping had done it for him.

“Fine, fine,” he walked over to the place where all the files had been set up and pulled them up again, “This is what we’re dealing with.”

You looked everything over, seeing some familiar names and faces of the people who were going to be your teammates. Natasha Romanoff, the woman who turned out to be one of the world’s deadliest assassins after convincing you she was just some secretary, and Steve Rogers, the man who your father had never shut his goddam mouth about.

“Of course,” you pointed your finger to Steve Rogers, “Dad’s prized possession.”

Tony groaned, rolling his eyes at seeing the man’s name. Your father had talked about Rogers as if he were sent to Earth by God himself - sculpted by the brains of your dad, of course. You hadn’t taken it to heart completely, but you knew how much Tony despised the man. You didn’t blame him. Throughout your entire childhood, Tony wanted to build a father-son bond, wanting nothing more than to spend quality time and enjoy activities together. Which is why he took it so hard when your father spoke of Rogers as if he was the most precious being in his life.

“So, what are we doing, Tony? Do we contact Fury? Coulson?” you placed your hands on your hips, eyeing the video of the suspected ‘Loki’ holding a glowing blue cube and quite the extravagant staff in the other hand.

“Good question, call Coulson,” he clicked his tongue, walking over to the couch behind him and flopping his body down with a thump.

Rolling your eyes, you pulled your phone out of your back pocket and scrolled through your contacts, finger landing on Agent Phil Coulson. You couldn’t remember ever entering his number or even asking for it, but Fury had a way of hacking into your devices so you were well equipped with emergency contacts. Clicking his number, the phone started to ring and Coulson’s voice greeted you through the receiver.

“So, the Starks are on board.”

The helicarrier was quite the sight. Engines that could easily over power that of a commercial jet and bodies rushing around checking on all the equipment on board, it was slightly overwhelming. Sure, growing up in the Stark family, you had seen your fair share of technology, but this was next level.

Tony rushed on inside to let Fury know the two of you had arrived as you stayed out on the deck, captivated by the hustle and bustle of the people around you.

“A bit different than your Manhattan apartment, huh?”

You turned around to face the voice and found a smirking Natasha Romanoff walking up to you with her arms crossed.

“I’d say,” you grinned, “You’d think I’d be used to this by now, the technology stuff.”

She shrugged, looking around at the jets parked near the two of you, “I don’t think anyone could really get used to this.”

Conversation stopped between the two of you as you looked on towards where a group of men ran by in formation, resembling that of boot camp.

“This looks familiar,” another unfamiliar voice came up to the two of you and it belonged to none other than Steve Rogers. You smiled kindly up at the man, part of you glad that Tony wasn’t here at the moment.

“Steve Rogers,” you stuck out your hand, “We haven’t had the chance to meet yet. Y/N.” You specifically left out your last name, knowing that he had no idea who you were anyways. To avoid an awkward, uncomfortable greeting, your first name would have to do.

“Seems you already know my name so my introduction is unnecessary,” Steve shook your hand firmly, and you could almost feel the unease radiating off of him. Of course he was uneasy. He’s from the 40′s, duh.

“Anywho, I’ve got to go in and check up with Fury, catch you later,” you politely smiled at them and made your way towards the door Tony went in before.

Walking into the main control room was bright, to put it into one word. The large glass wall took up most of the room, giving you a view of everything on the ground. You hadn’t even taken off yet but you knew it would be quite the sight from the air.

“Y/N Stark,” Fury’s booming voice dragged your attention to him, “Welcome to our little sky-home.”

“It’s something,” you walked over to him with a smile on your face, “Hey Maria.” You greeted the brunette woman standing next to him, being unfortunately drowned out by the sound of the engines roaring to life.

Steve, Natasha and another man walked into the room and sat around a large glass table as the Helicarrier took off from the ground. You made your way over to the unfamiliar third man and stuck your hand out.

“I’m Y/N. You’re...?”

“Um, Banner,” the guy seemed unsure of his own name, but was probably more weary about everything going on around him, “Bruce Banner.”

The name clicked in your head and your eyes widened, “Oh! Right! The green anger thing - that’s cool.” Of course you had heard of Bruce Banner and the infamous Hulk, it was pretty damn cool if you had to admit.

He awkwardly nodded at your comment and sat down next to Natasha as the gigantic ship lifted off the ground with a bumpy start. Fury stood guard in the center of the control room, making sure everything was going smoothly.

“We’re at lock, sir,” Maria’s voice was the first to speak after a couple of silent moments. As silent as you could get for a massive take off, that is.

“Good, let’s vanish,” Fury stated and you almost chuckled at how dramatically he delivered the sentence. He walked back over to the table right as Steve stood up, amazement clear on his face as he took in all of the surroundings for the first time. He walked up to Fury and handed him a ten dollar bill, not saying anything else as he walked over to the windows. You let out a small laugh, lifting your feet and resting them on the edge of the glass table, earning you an eye roll from Fury.

“Doctor, thank you for coming,” Fury greeted Banner, who seemed to have an awestruck look on his face as well but he played it off as he faced Fury.

“Thanks, uh, how long am I staying?” Banner asked.

Fury let out a small sigh, “Until we get our hands on the tesseract.”

“And, uh, where are you with that, exactly?” You asked, speaking up for the first time in a while. Fury turned around and pointed to a computer.

“Well,” he began, “We’re sweeping out every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet. Phones, laptops - if it’s connected to satellites, it’s eyes and ears for us.”

You scoffed, “Invasion of privacy much? What if someone’s got a camera in the room when they’re having s-”

"It’s still not going to find him in time,” Natasha spoke up from next to another computer, ignoring your comment.

“Yeah, who’s him, by the way?” You asked, feeling slightly stupid, but you hadn’t really done your research before rushing over here, “It said Loki - but is it like, Norse Asgardian God Loki? Or like, just some regular-ass Scandinavian guy?”

Fury sighed, clearly fed up with your behaviour, “Yes - Loki. From another world.” He then instructed Natasha to show Banner to his lab and the two of them left without another comment, leaving you standing there with even more questions if that was possible.

Phil Coulson entered the room and immediately rushed over to where Steve was standing. Clearly a fan of Captain America. You stared out the window as you processed everything in your head, wondering how the literal hell you guys were supposed to beat a God. A God.

You pulled out your phone and miraculously, the helicarrier had wifi. You pulled up Google and started looking into the mystical God of Loki. Some pretty weird results came up, but nothing really linked in with each other, so you put your phone away and let yourself find the information out first hand.

You weren’t really sure where Tony had buggered off to, only really noticing now that he wasn’t around, but he was bound to come scrambling back making a scene any moment now. He had said he was going to meet up with Fury.

“We got a hit,” a voice came up from the corner of the room catching everyone’s attention and making your previous thoughts vanish, “67 percent match. Weight - cross match, 79 percent match.”

“Location?” Phil Coulson took his attention away from his beloved Steve Rogers long enough to voice everyone’s question.

“Uh,” the man clicked a bunch of buttons until a location popped up, “Stuttgart, Germany. He’s not exactly hiding.”

You eyed the video and saw the man who you believed to be Loki walking down a long staircase. He was right about the ‘not hiding’ bit. Loki, dressed in a loose-fitting suit, carried the same large staff you had seen in the previous picture. His long, dark, greasy hair stuck out in little points and the man looked like he had seen the deepest pits of Hell. Dark sunken eyes and a pale complexion, he would stick out of a crowd like a sore thumb.

Fury turned to face you and Steve, “You’re up. The two of you. Go.”

You raised your arms in defence, “Ha, uh, no. I don’t do the field work, Fury.”

He glared you down with his one eye but you didn’t budge, “There’s a man out there ready to take over the world and you’re going to - what? Sit here and twiddle your thumbs like an ape?”

You scoffed, “No. I’ll just -” You stopped talking when you realized you actually had no idea what you were going to do. Of course, you were here to help save the world and all that jazz, but you had never experienced really working on the field. Only when Tony needed to be saved

“Fine, I’ll go with Rogers.”

“Suits are in room 11A and 11B,” Fury shouted at the two of your before you made your way towards the door.

You walked out of the room with Steve, who walked with such strut you had to rush slightly to keep up. At the end of a long hallway, he turned into the last door - 11B - and in the center of the room in a glass case was the Captain America suit.

“Spandex? What are we, a sex shop?” You joked, Steve responding with a dry chuckle. You rolled your eyes and walked over to the suit with him, opening the case with a dramatic gust. You looked around for anything else that could be stashed away in the room - any interesting gadgets or deadly toys.

Tony had built you a suit - nothing like his Iron Man one, but one that could sustain a bullet and wouldn’t burn in the unlikely case that someone threw a flamethrower at you. He designed it after you nearly got shot saving him from some crazed psycho. Of course, he hated putting you in danger with his life choice so you agreed to letting him protect you with what he was best at - technology.

You excused yourself and let Steve gear up as you went to 11A. Just like the other room, your suit was encased in a glass tube-shaped container in the center. You walked over to it and as if it had sensed your arrival, it opened up in the same dramatic noise.

The heavy black bodysuit stood perched on a mannequin and you immediately brought it down, not wanting to waste anytime before rushing off to Germany. You put the suit on, tightening it to the max so you were comfortable and secure. Slipping on the heavy duty combat boots that you had never worn before, you felt ready to go to battle.

You probably weren’t going to have any sort of impact, but you felt ready. That’s what matters, right?

Walking out of the room as you tied your hair into a ponytail, you caught up with Steve and the two of you made your way towards the jet. The long walk there was silent apart from the heavy sound of the two of you stepping in unison.

The jet was parked and open, ready for takeoff as the man sitting in the pilot’s seat gave a thumbs up upon seeing the two of you arriving. You made your way onto the jet and wondered if Tony knew you were heading off to go find the intergalactic maniac with Steve Rogers. You should probably send him a text but Fury was bound to inform everyone to head over to the same location, right?

The back door of the jet closed as the two of you strapped yourselves down and within seconds, you were off the helicarrier and off to save the day in Germany.

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